Afire Love
by lookinforsomeday
Summary: The memories of a past life were treasured among vampires. A light in this new life that was so dark and full of despair. Though not all are so lucky as to remember the passions and joyous moments of that first life. How does one react when a figure that was long forgotten returns? Fate got it wrong the first time. This time, things would be different. They'd be sure of it.
1. The Parting Glass

Chapter One

**The Parting Glass**

* * *

First of October 2005

London

Many things could be said of that evening's weather; the dreary overcast that had set in the late morning had only continued to darken as the day had passed, and at any moment the wet droplets of light rain would begin to fall on the city. Most of the passersby in the streets had their umbrellas out at the ready, raincoats fastened tightly over their heads as they prepared for the inevitable downpour.

Thoughts of foul language at the mood-damning climate fell upon the man's ears like the faint white noise of a distant television, and he barely took a moment's worth of time to pay them any mind. None of them were out of the ordinary, as the weather of this severity was a fairly common trait in most of his past residences. Rather than bring the man any enjoyment at the snarky, dry-humored quips of the British, as they usually would have, the thoughts only served to further darken his terrible mood.

The recent weeks had been nearly unbearable to withstand for him, and only out of sheer desperation and at the insistence from his family had he come to London. This, he knew, was his last resort for sanity.

If there was any chance at grasping it anymore. Deep down he was convinced he had left all remnants of it back in New York.

_splat_

The tiniest first droplet of water, landing on the center of his head, pulled him out of his thoughts for the time being.

He pulled his trench coat tighter, picking up his sluggish walk to a brisker pace, falling more seamlessly in line with the bustling crowds.

The pub he was expected at was only three blocks further, and as he drew closer the crowds grew smaller and smaller as he neared. For the smallest second, he worried he was led astray by wrong directions, but with one glance at the exterior of the bar, he felt nothing but a slight tug of humor at his heart.

Typical.

Of all the posh, lavish bars and taverns scattering the city, they had chosen the most run down and tattered one of them all to meet at. He truly wasn't surprised, he laughed to himself as he entered the pub, the door hinges creaking loudly as he pushed through the splintered wooden door.

The scent of the room assaulted his senses immediately; the smell of stout yeast and sweat seemed to cover the entire establishment, bringing him to think of what could only have been the remnants of a rough night before. And a bad one before that, too.

Through the horrid stench, he held back the need to cringe, focusing instead on the interior of the hell hole he somehow talked himself into entering.

The bar was small and rectangle in shape; light barely shown from the dusty emerald lamps scattered around the walls, giving the place a dark and eerie green glow like a taunting glass of murky absinthe.

Yes, he concluded, this was certainly the right place.

Few patrons littered the tables of the front room and even less scattered the bar lounge in the back from what was not obscured through the archway.

The individual in question, who had insisted he travel to London on a last moment's notice for this meeting, was the only person perched on one of the many metal barstools lining the mahogany bar in the back. Tending to a half-empty glass of gin and tonic.

He slid into the set beside them, nodding softly to the bartender that a drink was not necessary. With a shrug and look of distaste, the bartender left to take care of business in what could only be assumed to be the kitchens.

The two were now alone for the first time in over thirty-five years.

Neither spoke for a long moment until only an empty glass was left of the gin and tonic.

"I knew the nineties would ruin your hair," they said softly, just barely more than a whisper. But to both of them, that was as loud as necessary.

And just like that, the silence broke, the pair cracking up into soft laughter. It was the first time he had managed to feel honest humor in weeks.

He finally looked over to his long lost friend for the first time, a small smile on his face as he took in the woman beside him, finding her youthful face had not changed in the slightest over the decades. It never would, he knew, but the trueness of that fact always left him amazed. Just like he wouldn't age.

Yet their kind so different.

Wide eyes the color of evergreens met his amber ones, the same mirth and humor present in them as were no doubt in his own. The warmth of the liquor she had drunk had started to spread through her body, tinging her cheeks a soft rouge. He knew it would take far more than a small glass of the drink to make her feel even the slightest of its effects.

Their happy moment was short-lived, of course, as the reality of the meeting settled upon them both quickly. The lightness in his companion's eyes dimmed immediately, her wide smile softening into a closed lipped frown as she assessed him, looking for something. He never knew what it was that she looked for, what she could see that he couldn't, but whatever it was, she always found it.

"I can't believe it has been so long, Edward. And meeting only now, out of such circumstances."

The somber words bit into his skin like ice, and he had to look away in shame.

There was no good explanation as to why he had stayed away so long. Truly, he had thought that so much time wouldn't have passed between them without meeting to catch up. This was once the person he was closer to than anyone else; his mentor and friend. Why had he decided to stay away for so long? The correct answer seemed to escape him. It wasn't until a sealed envelope arrived on his doorstep three days earlier had he heard from her since 1970.

Not that it was her fault or doing. He had neglected his duty as a friend- as a student. He was to blame for the extended absence of contact.

Edward prepared himself for a verbal lashing he could only feel was deserved, though when none came he looked up once again.

When upset, her face was the most heartbreaking thing to behold. But he was not met with the watery eyes and deep-set frown he was expecting, rather, he was met with a calm and empathetic look. Her eyes soft and lips in a sympathetic smile.

"I am not angry with you. Truly, I am anything but. You know stretches of time mean so little to me now; I've seen so many days come and go. I only wish I had been able to intervene before things ended the way they did," she said finally, with a shake of her head. Long, manicured fingers gently traced the frosted rim of her cup mindlessly as she looked into it.

He shook his head at the claim, running a hand exasperatedly though his lightly dampened hair.

"There was nothing you could have done to prevent it, and I am a fool for not accepting it sooner. I knew every moment within my family's home was only a threat of death growing greater in possibility by the moment," he said finally, defeated.

Those words had run around his mind endlessly for the past three weeks, every moment of his consciousness was filled with his guilt and self-hatred at what had become of him. Of the precious life he had tried to protect, yet he knew that there truly was no way of keeping Bella safe when he himself was, in the end, the one thing he was trying to keep away.

This was the first time he had spoken such thoughts out loud. He trusted no one greater.

Her hand came to rest gently on his shoulder, and it was like that they sat and talked into the early hours of the morning. He told her everything. Why he left the girl he loved. How he had hoped that she would find a better life with a human just like her. He told her about how he wished fate hadn't been so cruel to deal him the cards it had.

She listened, understanding and supportive, through it all.

And by the end of their meeting, when all had been cleared from his chest, she finally spoke again.

"I saw you, last week. I saw you contemplating what to do. You were going to call me and ask for a favor. But you never did, you changed your mind" she said, "I could not let it go. I knew I had to help, as you have helped me in the past."

He watched her patiently, studying her face for any giveaway sign as to what she might be thinking. All he got was a stone, solid wall. It wasn't cold, no, quite the opposite- she trusted him in every way, but her abilities simply outmatched the strength of his own. There was no getting into her mind unless she wanted him to. He never could find a way in, even after eighty years of knowing one another. She always joked it was to keep him on his toes.

He could only anticipate her next words.

"You need not worry about your little Isabella anymore, Edward. There are things you must get right in your own family and life before you could even think of righting that wrong. She needs time. Your departure has left her fragile and vulnerable. But, she won't make it alone," she said, her voice ending on the softest note as she studied him seriously.

He looked at her, bewildered, then. The two statements completely contradicting one another. She only laughed, shaking her head at the look on his face, the confusion he felt. She rested her small, tanned hand over his much larger, pale one, the contrast in the warmth of their bodies was calming as she patted the back of his hand.

She smiled, answering the question that plagued his mind.

"Which is why I have decided that I will be moving to Forks to watch over her for you and your family. Until the time is right for you to return."

An unnecessary gasp of breath caught in his throat at her revelation, the scheme she had set. He contemplated the idea for a moment.

He wanted to argue, that it would never work. She couldn't possibly get close to the human girl.

But so often he forgot that it _would_, even better actually than his own family trying to blending in amongst the humans. After all, she looked the part.

She wiggled her brow mischievously at him, gloating in her genius. She gave him a look as if to ask what he thought. He raised his hands in mock surrender, knowing he didn't have much say regardless of what his objections might be.

He trusted her if she believed it would work, that she could help Bella... He knew without the slightest doubt that she would. After all, he didn't know where he would be without all the favors she had done for him.

He knew that she wouldn't give him more detail, even if he begged for it.

"_Some things are better left unsaid. After all, where's the fun in life if there aren't a few surprises along the way?_" she would always say.

She looked at him now, a grin growing larger on her flawless face by the second as she awaited his answer. Of course, she knew what he was thinking, but she was too polite to make it obvious, so she waited for his verbal answer.

"Fine, but she can't know-" he gestured between the two of them, lingering on her for a moment, eyes narrow in warning, "who you are, who you _truly _are. Or that you have any connection to me.

I exited her life because my presence was a danger to her, and believe me when I say, she's too nosey for her own good. She'll find out very easily who you are if you aren't careful. Promise me, this one thing. Please?" He asked, pleadingly.

She gave him a smile, one sincere and real, one she saved only for him, before nodding.

"I'll keep her safe, Edward. Even if it kills me."

* * *

**A/N: **_yes, _I know. I know. This was published many _many_ months ago. Why am I republishing it now? Because I'm done with being a coward. I stare at the documents for this story every single time I go to my doc manager and get sad that I never continued it because I was afraid of venturing into waters unknown. Well, screw that. I don't know what lies ahead for this story, only that I know I have faith in my OC's potential, and I refuse to let it go to waste!


	2. Paint It Black

Chapter Two:

**Paint it Black**

* * *

October 28th, 2005

Forks

**Bella, POV**

_This is the last time you'll ever see me._

He was wrong, that day in the forest wasn't the last time I had seen him. I saw him everywhere, every day, every second since that moment. He was all I could think about. All I could see when I woke every morning.

All I could remember. The memory of his face had been burned forever into my mind.

_You can go on living your life as if I never existed at all. I can promise you that._

That promise was broken the moment it left his lips. He knew I could never forget him.

I couldn't forget Edward Cullen. Not now, not ever.

There was nothing I thought on more since that day. Those bitter, burning words engulfed me in flame as they were so hatefully spatted at me until there was nothing left but a hole in my chest where my heart had been.

My heart turned to ash two months ago. Now all that was left was a husk of a body that was Bella Swan.

Deep down I knew I was hurting others, as Edward had hurt me. But I was so engulfed in my own damning emotions I couldn't find it within myself to care.

Through the numbness, I could feel, faintly, the worried stares of Charlie when he would come up to my room to tell me it was dinner time. Eventually, he'd return to the kitchen alone and defeated when it was apparent I wouldn't be following him down. My appetite had disappeared several weeks ago.

The social treatment of being the new girl had finally worn off, it had seemed. My brooding had quickly pushed my friends away after the first week and a half. Angela was the only one kind enough to act as though it hadn't bothered her; sitting with me at what was now the empty table of the Cullen children for a few days until finally, she'd had enough trying to get through to me with small talk.

I couldn't blame her. I didn't blame anyone because I would have left me, too.

Just like Edward had.

How the entire Cullen family had.

The final blow to my ego and heart was not only that Edward had left from his proclaimed loss of any love for me, but his family had as well. Was it truly all just a facade for the sake of Edward? Had all of the endearing words of Esme and Carlisle towards me as something of a daughter to them been nothing more than a show for what had suited their entertainment for the time being?

Every little look, every little word, I had analyzed at least a million times over the last two months. Could it really have been so easy for them to lie? I concluded that it had.

After all, they were vampires. Immortal beings who had been alive for centuries. It shouldn't have been that surprising to me that they had mastered the art of lying, just as they had of things such as piano or medicine.

I was a toy they had used for entertainment, and I had eaten my fill of it. I led myself, completely willing, into the lion's den. I felt special, powerful in the delight of thought for what I believed would be my own dazzling, beautiful future.

But the most sickening part of it all?

I still didn't regret it.

I would do it again, and again if it meant I could be with Edward.

To touch him, feel his icy skin against mine-

It was finally that thought that brought me to the consciousness of the real world, the pain it brought to my chest awakening my brain- if in just the smallest bit- to bring me to the present.

I blinked. Then I blinked again, harder this time to clear the blurry haze.

It was just another day at Forks High School.

I sat alone at the large circular table by the windows of the cafeteria where the Cullens had sat; leaves of orange and red dotting the skyline as the trees were in their beautiful transition to bare branches for the winter to come.

I didn't bother glancing into the bustling room ahead of me, I knew what waited there for me. Pairs of curious, speculating eyes every so often glancing my way as mouths venomous and hungry for gossip whispered of my pitiful fallen state.

I kept my eyes on the trees, preferring the company of the dying leaves over the living beings.

I couldn't help that my social habits were a hard trait to change.

I fumbled with the lukewarm water bottle in my hands, tracing the cap as I glanced at my watch.

Ten minutes left of lunchtime.

Four hours until the last school bell.

Five hours until I could return to my room, where my bed awaited me and where my many pent up tears would be shed.

Six until I would have to pretend I didn't hear Charlie downstairs, cursing at himself as he ruined his dinner once again and his insistent pleas that I join him in the living room to eat and watch the football game he'd have on the TV.

Twenty-four until I would have to repeat the same cycle all over once again.

The ticking down of time was all I had been able to do to keep myself sane, it was also an endless loop I had trapped myself in. I was counting the time since I had been left in the woods, and counting down every hour with which I would only age more.

I scoffed to myself.

Edward had left in an attempt to save my soul from the damnation that came with vampirism.

Yet he had damned me anyway to what he knew would be my own version of hell.

Hell wasn't somewhere I had to go after this life had ended, it was here and now.

Life without Edward was hell to me.

But its burn was all that kept me alive. It reminded me of why I was so distraught in the first place.

Because of Edward.

The hours to count down had turned into minutes, until I finally found myself parking my truck in front of my house that afternoon.

I found the house, as I had expected and hoped, empty. I climbed up the stairs and went into my bedroom.

Changing into sweats and a ragged, stained shirt I climbed into bed, where I had planned on staying until the next morning. As my new daily schedule had gone for the past two months.

My silent brooding, however, was interrupted not an hour later when Charlie came straight into my room after getting home from work, rather than straight to the couch.

I'd be a liar if I said it hadn't worried me at least a little bit. This never happened.

"Bells," he huffed, standing in the doorway. I kept my eyes trained on my floor, my body turned in his direction facing the doorway. I fought a glance. I didn't want to see the pained expression I knew he would be wearing.

He sighed, shuffling over to my bed before settling down onto the chair at my bedside. He looked at me expectantly, waiting awkwardly for me to look at him. He didn't know whether to keep talking or wait.

He decided to go for it. He kept his eyes down, averted. A trait we shared; neither fond of intervention.

"Bells, I'm worried about you. Really," he said, grasping at the words to say with a pause before continuing, "I don't think this is the best way to cope...

"I know your friends down at the school are missing you. Even Jacob; Every time I visit Billy he mentions how Jacob wishes you'd show your face around town more. It wouldn't hurt to go see some of them, I don't think. I-I think it would be best... best for the both of us," he said with a nod to himself, in reassurance that was what he had meant to say.

I didn't respond. He shook his head after a minute of silence, frustration beginning to grow evident on his face as he rubbed his forehead.

"Look Bells. I'm trying to give you options here. This isn't healthy and I- well, I just can't let you go on like this. It's making me worried sick, and your mom is sick too," he said, tone stronger and more determined than before. He was desperate.

I looked up finally, doing my best to pay him the attention he was asking me of.

The stress in his face lessened just a fraction as he looked back at me too, glad that he had my attention for the first time in four weeks.

"Bells, you have a choice. You can go down to Jacksonville to stay with your mom, or stay here and get back involved with your friends. Maybe get some professional help if you need to," he said as serious as he could, though with him being the timid and shy man he was, it was more out of encouragement to himself.

I stared at him, blankly for a moment.

Go to Jacksonville with Renee and Phil.

Stay in Forks, go to La Push or hang out with everyone from school.

I felt as though I was going to be sick. Neither of the options sounded good to me.

I wanted to be alone.

"Dad-" I started to protest, voice cracking from the lack of use, but he cut me off quickly with a wave of his hand. Halting.

"Now, now I know you don't want to do either of those things. I get it. This... This transition to time without the Cullen boy is somewhat.. hard for you. But if you stay here, I think it'll be a good thing. But if you can't, then I've already promised Renee I'd send you home to her. She thinks the sun would do you some good. And I don't think she's wrong on this one."

He looked devastated that my going to Jacksonville was even an option, but he cared enough that he would let me go if it meant something better for me. I knew how much he wanted me to stick around, even though he couldn't show it. My heart would have broken further if I had anything left to be claimed by that pain.

I frowned, looking away for a moment.

"Dad, I- I don't want to leave Forks.." I said, swallowing hard. I didn't know what to say, really. I had to make a choice on the spot, and I knew both would be a bad one.

"I want to stay here," I said finally, my decision was made. I knew that leaving this place would further the pain. Being here was a small part of keeping the memories of Edward and his family alive. The rain and cloudy weather; it was all a part of who they were to me.

He studied me a moment, looking for the slightest detail to set off any alarm. Finally, he decided I was telling the truth, as he nodded with a small grin.

"Good, Bells. I- I want you to stick around, for sure I do. I just want my little girl back is all," He said, tone lightened considerably as the awkward moment had passed. I forced a small upward pull of the lips, not really wanting to fake anything for him.

"Just promise me you'll go see your friends," he said softly, eyes averted before coughing out the next jumble of words I barely heard them.

"And you'll get out the house on the weekends," he waved a gesture in the air in reference to all that had been happening the past two months, "go down to La Push sometime. And sometime soon. I don't want you to lay here in misery anymore. It's not good Bells."

I looked at him this time, brows knitted together in distaste for any of the requests. But I knew it was a deal I had to make. I couldn't leave.

"Fine dad, I will. I'll check with Jessica or Angela and see if they'd want to go shopping or something." I had zero intentions of following through with any social interactions, at school anyway. I simply entertained the idea.

His tense frame eased a bit, his tightly lined lip relaxing into a barely-there smile.

"Good, Bells... Good. I think it would be great for you," he said, standing up and walking to the door. He stood there a moment to look at me, before nodding to himself. A mental pat on the back for his somewhat victory before heading back downstairs to the living room.

I rolled over in my bed as soon as I was alone, letting go of a deep breath I had been holding.

Pretending to hang out with kids from school was an easy lie to tell Charlie, he'd have no real idea if I hung out with them or not. I could make it through this. I would do the same things I had been doing for weeks, only now tweak my interactions with Charlie. It'd be a task, but if it kept me in Forks, it was a small price to pay.

I could stay.

At least for now.

* * *

Spring 1863

There were few things that remained to calm their fraying nerves; it was common to go a dozen days without communication, perhaps even a month at the most. It took time for mail to be sorted and delivered by foot during such a terrible time for the nation.

But never this long.

The first month had come and gone quickly, the worry at lack of word had been smoothed over by the news that no one else in the city had received word either. Due to the regiments being drawn in so close to the bordering towns, all mail had been halted for fear of information leaking to possible enemies.

The second was much harder to endure, however, as others began to receive words with those who were no longer dwelling within the safety of their homes. It was harder to not stay up at night, obsessing over every possible and terrible explanation.

Harder to ignore the burning glances of concern cast their way when visiting the town center, lingering a moment longer at the news boards for familiar names and battalions. Lingering in hope to see a new listing for missing people.

By the third, it wasn't a question of what if, but a collection of questions about what comes next that plagued the consciousness. The only thing hanging in the wavering balance of assumption and confirmation was the wretched yellow slip.

The slip that sent many souls to a quick grave when placed in their hands upon opening their doors. It took far too much effort for them to avoid the front parlor during the evenings; the urge to set up camp and watch the winding gravel road was too strong to resist.

They longed to know.

However, as the third month came to a close and the fourth was upon the horizon, it was no longer a fear that resided within the residents of the home. Rather, it was a desire to extinguish the pain of not knowing.

A definite answer could bring sleep once again. The sorrow and mourning would be strong, yet it could not last forever like the void of uncertainty.

When it finally came, the house was, for the first time in months, filled with sound again. The stillness that had accompanied the worries and fear was replaced with sobs and endless tears, enough to last a lifetime. It was an unforgettable day for them. A day forever remembered by the creak of stairs being ran down in haste, chest wrenching sobs, the cries of a startled infant in the background.

Nothing about that day was beautiful or kind. It had felt like an eternity, a cycle of never-ending pain and sadness that seemingly had no end. And perhaps it didn't. The sun had set and risen many times thereafter, but it lived on in an infinite cycle, one in which they would relive for the rest of their lives.

It simply was a question of what would come first- the end of the memory or the end of that damned, broken soul.


	3. Learn to Live

**A/N: **I know, I know. Why the hell did I delete this story? I don't know to be honest. A full plate and the fear of writing a story about non-canon creatures maybe? But I regret taking it down, I always look at the documents with sadness when I pass them in my manager. So screw regret and waiting. On with the story!

* * *

Chapter Three: 

**Learn to Live**

* * *

The weekend started out painfully slow just as it had for the last several weeks.

As police chief, Charlie had far fewer days off than others at the station. His designated day off was an alternating Saturday shared between him and Officer Long, his partner before becoming chief; each taking turns working the day's shift while the other got to be home for the day.

This Saturday had been Charlie's day to be at home. And by being at home, that's quite literally all he did. He sat in his recliner watching tv, flipping back and forth between college football and the fishing channel. The only time he moved was to go to the restroom between commercials and to make a call for a pizza delivery right before noon.

Truly there really wasn't anything about this that should have bothered or irked me, but since I had become a recluse even more so than before, I was confined to the second floor of the house in an attempt at avoiding any contact with him. I hadn't even dared to risk grabbing a slice of pizza from the kitchen until he had left to go to the store around one that afternoon. Far away from any possible continuation of our little talk the night before.

Or, rather, should I say it was more of an intervention than a friendly conversation.

I had sat curled up on the bay window seat of my room that morning, overlooking the back yard. This too had become a new habit of mine, my eyes trained on the tree line as I waited. Waited for what, exactly, I didn't know. My best guess was that it was my mind's last hope to catching a glimpse of a tall pale figure lingering among the trees. It was in vain, but I had yet to give up on them.

I had sat up through the night, my mind racing with plan after plan of how to get myself through the impending week. I had to make friends again. How was I to do that when I wasn't even sure they wanted to talk to me after what I had put them through? I was sure that assumption was correct because even _I _didn't blame them for wanting to distance themselves from the girl who belonged in the loony bin at this point.

I wanted to avoid the idea of what my other option was.

I knew that no matter how badly I had ignored or treated Jacob, there would always be a welcoming place for me at La Push.

The bubbling guilt in my stomach made me wince at that thought. I found Jacob to be a good friend; sometimes the age difference showed, but he was kind and eager to befriend me when I knew no one in the beginning. The guilt, however, was the fact of my knowledge of his obvious.. crush on me. I knew it was a terrible thing to use to my advantage- to seek his friendship out at this time because I knew he'd go along with whatever I wanted- but it was one of my only real options at this point.

Actually, it was the _only _option.

I decided I would make a phone call later that night to appease Charlie; maybe I could convince him to see a movie or something that required the minimal socialization with one another.

I was thrown out of my thoughts at the sound of crunching gravel and the hum of an engine; Charlie was returning from his grocery run. I watched as he gathered the few plastic bags from the passenger seat of the cruiser before walking in the house.

I glanced back at the blinking digital clock on my bedside table. It was nearly three in the afternoon, a time in my routine when I would begin the process of switching from my window seat to the bed, where I had every intention of staying until I found sleep.

Or didn't. It was usually the latter.

After a moment of talking myself up into moving, I rose from the window to gather clothes and toiletries with plans to take a shower before turning in for the day. However, at the moment between my walking from the window to the bed, I receive yet another visit.

_God, does it never end? _I cried out in my mind.

Charlie hadn't bothered to knock this time, throwing open the door before walking inside. He must have dropped the bags on the dining table and came straight up to my room by the sound of it, he was oddly winded from running up the stairs, his breathing ragged and loud.

Last night, I had felt awkward and a bit uneasy at spending the energy talking with him. But if I had felt uneasy then, I felt absolutely and completely terrified now at the look on his face.

He had a grin from ear to ear, a glint in his eye I had seen only once before on him. It had me wanting to run for the hills. Whatever it was, it wasn't good news. To me at least.

He came into the room then, moving to stand by the bookshelf directly across from me, and I took a small step backward to give myself the smallest bit of extra space. I held my breath, my mind nothing but a jumble of terrifying things he could possibly want now.

He calmed a bit, the smile fading to it's more normal place and size as he caught his breath.

"So, I went down to the store to grab some stuff for the week," he started. Suddenly the awkward Charlie was back as if he had suddenly gone back to normal once his breathing was in check, the excitement dying down, but that glint in his eye that gave me great unease was still there.

I watched him, listening and forcing a nod for him to continue. I just wanted this over, whatever it was.

"I was trying to find those... whatcha call them.." he waved his hand, thinking of what he had forgotten, his train of thoughts derailing at the item. I felt a bit guilty since he had to take up grocery and cooking duty since I had stopped, but that thought was quick to disappear as he regained his thoughts.

"Whatever they were, that fruit snack I like with liquid candy in the middle, anyway- I was looking for those when I ran into someone," he said, talking faster than normal. Clearly, he was excited, happy over whatever he had to tell me, I realized in horror. There was no other conclusion, it had made him forget the name of _fruit gushers_ for crying out loud.

That couldn't be good. The last time Charlie was excited like this was when he had taken me to a baseball game in California one year on our visits, he was excited to sit among the crowd of other fans and friends he hadn't seen in a while. The sheer number of drunk fans and rowdy people had scared me for life.

"It was a girl about your age, I had never met her before. I hadn't been looking where I was going and nearly ran her over with my shopping cart, and as I apologized I introduced myself. Apparently, she's new here, Bells. Said she was your age, she's starting up at the high school on Monday," he said, pleased at himself with the new discovery, clearly fond of the meeting as he recalled it.

It clicked in my mind, he was trying to play matchmaker and make a new friend for me. I wanted to scream and cry at the same time.

I didn't want a friendship. I destroyed the ones I had made already, there was no way I could find the energy to not poison another one with my current mood.

"I think, ya know, that since you're also still the new girl, you two could relate a lot.," he said, the awkwardness finally catching up to him as he began to trail off at the looks I was giving him. He didn't really think anything through up to this point. He sighed.

"What I wanted to say, was that I think she could use a friend, and you could too. It'd be the perfect opportunity to get back out there and find some happiness in your life, Bells," he said sadly. I turned my gaze to the pile of laundry on the floor, settling on anything but him.

I gave a shrug, it seemed like the only response I could give at that time. Of course, he wouldn't be satisfied with me just hanging out with Jacob, doing the bare minimum. I wondered if this was his plan all along, knowing I wouldn't really try.

"What's she like?" I asked, half interested. The question was forced out of me as I remembered that I had to at least try some, if not I'd be packing my bags and headed to Florida. I didn't want that.

He smiled a little again, glad to see I was going along with it.

"I didn't get to talk to her long, she had to get home to help finish unpacking, but I think there might be a lot you two could have in common. Said her name was Elizabeth, she's a senior this year, too. She moved with her parents from South Carolina. Her parents are both environmental scientists and moved up here to do research on wildlife in the national forest. She seemed really nice, I told her you had just moved here not that long ago, too."

Whatever hopes he had of sparking interest and curiosity in me were for nothing. I didn't feel anything other than dread at the fact that not only did my dad _meet_ her but he _told_ her about me. She knew who I was now, and I could only imagine how I'd deal with that introduction now that it was inevitable. Just as I had looked for familiar faces and names when I moved, she undoubtedly would, too.

She was going to be so disappointed and let down when she met the practically lifeless Bella Swan.

I must have done a terrible job at hiding my feelings about the new girl, not that I tried at all because Charlie sighed. I stole a glance at him.

"I just don't get it, Bella. What's so wrong with making friends? I'm not asking you to be best friends and spend every second with her, or anyone else. Just that you'll _try. _Try to do anything but sit around and sulk. You've shut everyone, including me, out of your life. You can't go on like this any longer, not under my roof. Just promise me you'll try on Monday to get to know her. That's all I ask, even if it's just to show her where her classes are. Okay?" Unlike last night, where he was full of concern and worry, he was fed up now. Really serious, and upset.

"Okay."

I thought on that promise I made, debating if I would follow through, and it followed me through the weekend, still unanswered by the time I had laid down in my bed Sunday night.

I couldn't deny the small glimmer of a thought in my head that told me that yes, I did have that desire to talk to someone.

But who outside of this new girl?

Charlie was too awkward. Lauren and Jessica were probably enjoying every moment of my misery. Angela was sweet for trying to stick around in the beginning, but I knew at this point she had hung up her hat on this one, she didn't need the weight of my troubles on her shoulders. And Renee would simply tell me to get dressed up and find a rebound. And even if it was all for nothing, and I didn't make a friend out of this, at least I could pretend I did. Charlie wouldn't know outside of the facts that I had tried. It would be easy to make up lies about the rest.

No matter what I had been put through by Edward and his family, no matter the hurt I felt from it all, I knew I would never move on if I didn't try now. Especially not if I passed up the only opportunity I would probably ever get in this little town.

I rolled over to face the bedside table, where the wobbly silver light with a paisley purple lampshade providing the only light in the room sat on the far edge. With a sigh and halfhearted promise to myself that I would follow through tomorrow, I reached up and pulled the metal string, flipping the light out and allowing the darkness to consume me.

I had made up my mind.

I would introduce myself Monday morning, but I would remain cautious and short until I knew I could relax and trust this girl to not pry. I would be as helpful and friendly as possible, even though they could never truly understand the trauma a teenage girl who mingled with vampires could have possible endured post-breakup. But I would do it for Charlie. I would do it for Renee.

* * *

I was an idiot.

Yes, definitely an idiot, I confirmed to myself the following morning as I drove down the damp highway.

I had half a mind to turn the old truck around. This was absolutely crazy.

"You can do this," I said to myself, but it was meaningless. I certainly could _not _do this. My stomach churned uneasily with nerves. I clutched the steering wheel tighter.

I was going to vomit.

I swerved slightly to my right, over into a ditch, stomping on the break to bring the truck to a stop. Throwing open the door, I wiggled ungracefully out just in time to lean my head down to dispose of what little oatmeal I had attempted to eat that morning. I stayed like that for a moment, dry heaving and nose runny. It was until a good five minutes later that I finally was able to catch my breath again, taking in short ragged pulls of the cold air.

_You're an idiot! Don't do this! It will just make things worse for you! _My mind screamed at me.

I leaned my back against the cold leather seat as I got back in the truck with a shaky breath. I closed my eyes, trying to find my bearings the best I could. With a peek at the clock on the dash, I saw that I would for sure be late if I didn't go now, and I had wanted to get there in time to scout her out to get a feel of what I was up against. My hand hesitated for a second as they went to turn to crank the ignition.

_I can't do this. _

I didn't have a choice, I reminded myself. I had to do it for Charlie. For my mom. And for myself, I added half-heartedly. So with a grimace and a shake of the head, I got back on the road, driving the remaining ten miles to the school where my certain hell resided.

I took my time parking, taking a spot furthest from the front of the school, as always, so that I would keep my monster of a truck from potentially scratching any other cars. However, recently it had also been to keep me as far from prying eyes as possible.

I kept a flow of measured breaths as I cut the engine and fell back against the leather seat, closing my eyes for a moment to calm myself.

One, two, three, _breathe._

Opening my eyes after a moment, I scanned the parking lot for a car that I didn't recognize or for any unfamiliar faces in the drop-off line. It took a moment, starting from the front of the lot where the football players sat huddled together on a truck tailgate flirting with the cheerleaders, to the painfully familiar beat-up van on which my former friends lounged until finally, I got to the other lots in the back where I was. Most cars parked in this area were the dinged and barely held together vehicles, each with the same reasoning as my truck, but there was one that stood out like a sore thumb amongst the junkyard.

A white Toyota Camry was parked and idling three spots across from me, snug between a rusty Ford Taurus that had seen better days and a banged up Jeep that was probably as old as Charlie. It didn't belong to anyone I knew, and though it would have been a common and average vehicle back in Phoenix, it wasn't common in a place like Forks where the closest car dealership was in Port Angeles. Of course, the guess was confirmed when I took a closer glance at the blue and white license plate, declaring the car to be from South Carolina.

I immediately felt the nausea return.

I really didn't want to do this.

Deciding it would be best to approach her in the hall rather than in the parking lot, like a creep, I waited for her to get out and go inside first. In part, this was because I was nervous, and also intimidated. I had no clue what she looked like or anything about her besides her name for that matter. It was about five minutes after this decision that the Camry's engine cut off and the front door opened, the driver stepping out and into the cold.

I hadn't spared much thought to what I guessed her to look like, yet none of them came close. I didn't know if it was because of a sense of assumption from comparing everyone to the Cullen's, or if I had just chalked her up to be a huge menacing threat in my mind, but I found myself to be bizarrely, well, relieved at her simplicity.

She was slightly taller than average height, judging in comparison to the car she stood by, and I guessed she was somewhere around 5'7" which was just a few inches taller than me. She was far too distant from my car for me to really see her face, her long hair was being blown in every direction by the wind that I probably couldn't have seen it if I were closer anyway.

She wore a thick grey jacket to battle the cold, with a baggy cream knit jumper that almost seemed to swallow her underneath. The colors of her clothes were neutral but stood out sharply against her tanned skin, a feature that could only be the result of what could have only been a lifetime under the southern sun.

The first thing that came to mind and caused a painful lurch in my upset stomach, as she made her way to the front of the lot, was that I wanted to introduce her to Alice.

And like a moth to a flame, every student of Forks High School turned to see the much talked about new girl as she made her way to the front of the school, their breaths held in their throats as they took in the sight before them.

It didn't matter if she was a fashion model, sporty, or plain- she was _new. _New in a place like Forks was rare, especially with people under the age of retirement. I learned that pretty quickly when I moved here. They saw me as a new shiny toy for a few weeks, even though I was far from their expectations for someone from a city like Phoenix, but it was interesting to them nonetheless.

I wouldn't be surprised if she had a few date proposals before the week was over.

Once I had deemed the coast to be clear enough I made my way towards the front. Everyone who had only moments before been drawn in by the new girl had come out of their haze-like trance to go back to talking among their groups, this time far more excited as they discussed their opinions and first impressions of the newbie. I passed through the lot without a single side glance.

I took my time walking through the main building and unloading my backpack at my locker. I couldn't decide how to go about introducing myself to her, but as I saw the hoards of students rushing inside not long after I had, I knew that if I didn't go soon someone would snatch her up. Probably someone of the likes of Mike or Eric to be specific.

Unloading the last of my textbooks I shut the locker and made my way towards the front office, where I was sure she was finishing up her paperwork. Once again, the memories of my own first day came flooding back.

Just as expected, she had just reached over the counter to grab her slip for teachers to sign when I came to stand outside the office, peaking in through the glass window to check. With a quick nod and thanks, she turned from the desk towards the door, pushing it open with her side as her hand held the slip and the other clutched her backpack tightly.

I couldn't help but tense up a bit when she exited and took in the busy hall around her, and I forced a half smile on my face. Other people took notice of her too, each turning to sneak a look at her when they heard the door close, watching her closely.

She noticed them, of course, shifting her stance awkwardly as she readjusted her backpack on her shoulders, trying to decide where to go first before she turned in my direction.

The first thing I noticed was that her almond eyes were bright and deep green, bringing an added lightness to the wavy strands of her caramel hair, which was pulled half up, half down reaching her lower back.

She was pretty, in a very natural way. She wore little makeup; mascara dotting her lashes and a rose-tinted balm coating her lips was all she needed. I found myself curling just a bit inwards on myself at the thought at how she didn't need any of it anyway, a pang of sudden sadness at the realization that she reminded me of Rosalie in that way.

I forced those thoughts down as soon as they came, my focus returning to the introduction at hand.

"Hey, I'm Bella Swan. My dad, Charlie, said he ran into you at the store the other day," I said, blurting it out faster than I could process what I was saying or stop myself from saying anything at all. I had decided forcing something out was better than nothing before I chickened out, but as soon as I had I had to force myself not to cringe.

_Really? My dad met you at the store?_ I scolded myself mentally.

I cleared my throat before continuing. "He told me about how you and your family had moved here, and figured you could use a helping hand getting used to a new school."

It was like a light had gone off in her head, her expression changing from being slightly confused and apprehensive of me at first before relaxing into realization when I had mentioned Charlie. Her shoulders went from tense to relax as she nodded, a small smile creeping onto her face as she came to feel comfortable.

"Elizabeth MacLaine, though you can call me Elle. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella," she said, her voice warm and inviting, reaching out her hand that had previously held her backpack to shake mine, which I did awkwardly. She didn't seem to notice at how awkward and out of place I felt doing so, that or she didn't mind, because as soon as she released my hand and gave a simple nod in greeting, the smile she wore only growing slightly.

I wanted to be intimidated by this girl, but instead of meeting the cold stare I would expect from someone who so closely resembled the kind of girl such as Rosalie, her face held a sense of kindness or warmth that a girl like Rosalie could never show. Rather, she seemed to embody more of a warm and inviting calm, one that I had loved Esme for.

It was rather odd to wrap my mind around.

"It's nice to meet you, too," I said, taking a moments pause to figure out how to respond. I was beginning to feel my uneasiness return, as I remembered what exactly I was supposed to do today. She must have caught the hesitation as a clue to where my thoughts were going because she nodded to herself before readjusting her backpack and taking out her schedule that the secretary in the front office had printed out for her, shifting to stand a bit closer to me so I could look at it with her.

I leaned over slightly to look, immediately running through and comparing our classes. We had the first and third period together, AP English and calculus.

"I have English with Mr. Mason first, too. And I have calculus with you also. Our first class is next door," I told her as she folded her slip and stuck it in her pocket, and as soon as she did so we slowly made our way down the hall and through the covered sidewalks that connected the buildings. For the most part, we were silent, I couldn't really think of much to say. That must have seemed obvious to her as she started up the conversation.

"I didn't get to talk much to your dad the other day, but he did tell me you had moved here recently, too," she said, glancing over to me in acknowledgment as we walked slowly, the hallways slightly congested as the bell came closer to ringing," where from?"

I nodded, fiddling with the backpack strap as I thought on what to respond with.

"Yeah, I moved at the beginning of this year from Phoenix, Arizona," I said softly, keeping my eyes averted as I spoke, trying to keep myself from meeting the judging eyes of the people around us. Bella the freak associating with the prized new girl? It was probably shocking to them.

"It took me a while to adjust to the new climate here, it's very different from the humidity I was used to."

She nodded in almost immediate understanding, Arizona was a similarly hot and sunny place like her home had been. I wondered briefly if she missed it like I missed Arizona.

"Charlie said you had moved here from the east coast. Have you ever been this far northwest?" I asked, letting the curiosity take over for once, I hadn't experienced such thoughts in a while, and I felt it better to indulge in them while I could. I didn't know how long the calm would last.

She nodded at the question, glancing at me for a brief moment before responding. "I have. My parents are big nature people. They've always had an obsession with the dense forests up here, we'd go to the national parks a lot during the summers when I was growing up, it wasn't long before they wanted to come out here to do a long-term study. My mom got an offer from Peninsula to teach in their graduate program, so dad decided it would be a great opportunity to go and run his own research while she teaches and helps him on the side. It was simply too good of an offer to pass up."

She spoke fondly of her parents, and the lightness her voice took when she spoke of them made it sound as though she enjoyed the memories she recalled as she spoke of her travels. It made it real to me, and suddenly I realized that I wasn't feeling the usual negative and stressful emotions I carried with me through the day. It made me slightly more hopeful that perhaps this was going in a good direction.

We continued to make small talk, even as we made it to homeroom and waited for the first bell to ring. I learned that she was an only child, too. She didn't play sports either, which was a small point in my books when she told me. There was no way she was clumsy and awkward like me, but it was nice to let myself think so.

As class dragged on, Mr. Varner going straight into a lecture about the cultural breakdown of _Mrs. Dalloway_, my mind started to wander to Elizabeth. I was pleasantly surprised, even though it had only been less than an hour of knowing her, I was finding myself focusing on trying to figure her our instead of my own personal problems. She was the new puzzle, one I wasn't even sure was needing to be cracked. I didn't know her.

She was clearly my age or a tiny bit older, her face bright and youthful just like other girls our age save for her deep tan. But what made her different, upon observing her from a desk row over and from earlier, was that there was an underlying sense of maturity in her eyes and posture. It showed in the way she watched others around her and when she would speak. Everything she did was calculated and thoroughly thought out, I realized as the morning passed into midday and our calculus class had come to an end.

I promised I'd come to find her after her art class to walk with her to lunch. At that point, I had mulled over my observations further to the point to where it didn't even occur to me that I was trying to _once again_ place her in a box with the Cullens until she sat down across from me with her bagged lunch and tearing into her ham sandwich with such eagerness it almost sent me flying out of my seat.

I had expected her to not eat. Like the Cullens.

I wanted to knock myself one in the forehead. Of course, she wasn't a vampire, there hadn't been a single factor about her that stood out as they had. I craved, hoped so badly, to see any sign of them in this stranger that I had started to assign any possible characteristics of the Cullen children to her. She had green eyes and a tan some people who went to the tanning bed daily could never dream of having for Christ sake.

Everything from her personality, looks, and interests I had tried to assign. I felt bad, she was her own person. I shouldn't try to make assumptions so quickly without giving her a chance, I told myself. She was her own person. Not a Cullen. There were more great people in the world besides them.

There was more to the world than the Cullens.

I dwelled on that thought for a long moment. I couldn't even believe that I could think such a thing.

Did I even believe it?

"Bella? Are you okay?"

I must have fallen really far into my own thoughts because she had stopped eating to look at me concerned, her head tilted ever so slightly as she observed me. I blinked twice, clearing my mind as fast as possible to snap back into the real world. I pushed the green beans on my plate around with my fork, turning my attention to them while I recovered from my embarrassment. I felt so foolish.

"Sorry, it's just been a long morning. I'm usually not this outgoing, I usually just keep to my thoughts."

It was a long silent moment. I felt stupid, childish, and incredibly alone. I sighed, looking up to see what expression she held, expecting judging eyes that I had seen on my classmates, who at one time, had been my friends.

"Okay, tell me about it. Why do you normally keep to yourself?"

When I looked up, I was met with a neutral face, her eyes being the only telltale sign that she was analyzing every move and breath I made. It made me feel.. weird when I met her gaze. I couldn't place it. It was as if there was something there I had never seen in another person, a hidden glint to her eyes that made me feel, well, I wasn't sure.

But it made me want to talk to her, get to know her. I couldn't explain it. She wasn't turned off by my blunt comment and confession. I just knew as soon as I made eye contact with her at that moment I felt compelled to tell her everything.

So, I did my best to.


	4. Smoke on the Water

Chapter Four:

**Smoke on the Water**

* * *

She was just an ordinary girl, I told myself.

The new kid that had every student at Forks High turning their heads to get a glimpse of. Eager to be the first to catch a sliver of anything gossip-worthy, something exciting to talk about in such a dreary town.

Yet, she didn't show much interest in giving any of them a moment of her attention, politely returning the introductions before turning back to what she had been doing before. Walking with me in mutual silence or sitting at the large and near-empty table in the cafeteria across from me, looking up from whatever book she was reading that day to chat softly with me every so often.

I found that being around Elle had been a lot easier than I originally thought.

She expected nothing in return when she would speak, usually making small comments here and there about the town, about whatever she was reading. It was nice, as when I did feel like returning the conversation, she never pushed it further than what I offered.

I hadn't known what to think of her at first. But as I had grown accustomed to her presence, I realized I didn't mind it. In fact, I looked forward to it.

There was this light about her, one that was just barely noticeable, so faint I had almost missed it. Warm and inviting, pulling me in closer day by day. I couldn't explain it.

As the first few days turned into weeks after her move, I had little by little started to open up. The warmth that she embodied evoking a response in me.

I had told her the gist of what had happened in the months since I had moved to Forks; how I made friends with Jessica and her group, met the family of new kids who had left just a few months before her arrival. Little pieces of information at a time.

I hadn't said much about the breakup, though I knew I didn't have to- it would be easy for her to piece together what happened just by listening to the chatter around campus. She didn't poke and prod, simply listening sympathetically whenever I mentioned _them_.

Though I still had my reservations, of course. I had so many secrets that my life pretty much became one at some point.

My identity melting away, my past involvement with the Cullen family and the run-ins with the nomads had muddled what had existed before.

How could I be normal when I knew when the world was anything but?

But I felt some sense of normalcy, at least, with her around.

We hadn't spoken much outside of class, my social tolerance only allowing me to do so much without feeling drained. But on the last day of school that week, marking a month since her arrival, Charlie ran into her at the store once again.

He invited her to join us for dinner that Saturday night. Hatching a sneaky plan of his own to try and push me back in the right direction.

She had messaged me for the first time, after having exchanged numbers the first day of school, wanting to make sure I was up for her coming over. There would be no hard feelings if I didn't feel up to it.

I couldn't find it in me to disappoint Charlie yet again.

I had not seen him look so happy in months, a pep in his step as he eagerly spent the morning cleaning the kitchen and living room for when our dinner guest would arrive later that evening.

It was the first time I entered the kitchen with any intention to help cook or clean since the Cullens had left.

We made burgers, a simple task since the patties came already shaped and seasoned, yet I didn't miss the wide grin Charlie tried but failed to hide as I worked alongside him at the stove. We hadn't spoken, though he didn't expect me to, finding my presence alone to be enough of a victory.

The small radio on the windowsill above the sink played softly to cut through the silence in the air, and when I had just set out the last plate on the table, there was a knock at the door.

Charlie looked like an eager housewife from the '50s, hands flitting at his sides in excitement as he dashed around to add finishing touches where they were needed. I almost found it humorous.

I was the one who answered the door, finding Elle in the process of trying to close her umbrella. She gave a bright smile when she noticed me, laughing slightly at herself as she struggled, before giving up. She left the blue and white striped umbrella leaning against a potted plant on the porch.

She said a silent thanks as I took her raincoat and hung it on one of the hooks by the door, and by the time I entered the kitchen, Charlie had already greeted and steered her towards the food.

She gave a shy smile, thanking him for the invitation. He shrugged her off, taking a beer from the fridge and cracking it open.

"Of course, it's our pleasure. When you mentioned you'd be home alone I figured this would surely beat eating a frozen TV dinner. Plus, I haven't had a homemade burger in ages," he said, taking a long swig of the beer.

When Charlie had run into Elle at the store, she had mentioned her parents would be out of town for the weekend, the opportunity to observe the season's wildlife out in the national park too great to pass up. She had been buying groceries to stock up for the weekend, a stack of assorted frozen meals balancing in her arms when he saw her at the checkout.

We settled into an assembly line, putting toppings on our burgers and fries. Sitting at the table, Charlie had already picked up making conversation with our guest.

His behavior was completely out of character, a testament to his desperation to get me out of my funk. It stung a part of me, guiltily.

I did my best to be polite and social, adding comments here and there when Charlie would ask about her life back in North Carolina. Her interests and hobbies.

She had taken the questions in stride, happy to be in such strange company.

If she felt awkward by our obvious unease at trying to be outgoing, she didn't show it.

"I was never a big sports person, though I did spend a good amount of time outdoors because of my parents. I much prefer the arts, personally," she said in response to Charlie's question, munching slowly on a french fry.

I nodded politely at her answer, knowing this already. I had learned she played an array of instruments, preferring the classical sounds of the piano and violin. She had taken lessons since she was a child, a far off look of fondness in her eye as she recalled the memories of her childhood.

What had caught Charlie's interest the most, and even mine, I'll admit, was that this was her first time attending school.

She had been homeschooled for the entirety of her education, only with her mother's new job at the university was she provided the opportunity to experience public school. Just in time for her senior year.

The new tidbit of information was most intriguing to me, the first fact about her that had actually caught my attention. My usual state of general disinterest faltered, and I found myself looking at her in a new light as we ate the rest of our dinner.

Suddenly, I was conflicted even more with why she spent her time at school with me. While she had spoken amiably about her dream as a kid to go to school over dinner, her demeanor at school told a different story.

She was no happier to be there than I was.

As it were with a lot of things about this new girl that sat across the dinner table from me, I realized there was far more to her than what met the eye. I just simply didn't know what yet.

But I knew in my gut I wouldn't be able to just leave it that way.

I never had a good sense of self-preservation. My strong sense of curiosity was my vice.

As we cleaned and put away the dishes, Elle lending a helping hand by putting away the condiments and toppings in the refrigerator, Charlie asked what her plans were for the rest of the weekend.

I worried he was looking for yet another excuse to have Elle over.

I hated how terrible it was that a part of me wished he wouldn't. That I'd rather be alone. But I couldn't help myself, it was the truth.

She must have caught on too, as she caught my weary glance. She gave Charlie a polite smile.

"Thank you so much for tonight, Chief Swan," she said, nodding at him, and gave me a look of thanks as well, " and Bella. You were right that a homemade meal beats frozen food by a mile. But I think tomorrow I'm going to go down to Port Angeles. Maybe catch a movie and shop a bit. My mom isn't one for fashion, so I try to spare her the trip when I can."

Charlie looked a bit down at the deflection, though with another swig of his beer he seemed to be over it. He told her it was no problem.

I was all but shuffling myself towards the stairs, itching for the moment we would be alone once more, and I could return to the comforts of my room. With a final farewell and promise that she would send a text to my phone that she made it home safely, Elle was gone.

As she and her blue striped umbrella disappeared into her little white car, I was taking the stairs two at a time.

I only made it up halfway the staircase when Charlie cleared his throat, and I froze. He put his hands on his hips, a slight frown on his face.

Something passed between us. I could feel his hopes fading away yet again. He had thought this dinner would keep me from retreating once more. I gave him an apologetic look, forcing the words out of my mouth. Eager to appease him.

"Thanks for the dinner," I said, shifting my weight between stairs awkwardly, "I appreciated the company. Goodnight, dad."

The thanks were halfhearted, he probably could tell, but the addition of the endearment that I had previously always avoided- _dad- _seemed to make up for it. He shooed me off, and as I closed my bedroom door, I heard the television flicker on. The sports announcer's voice seeping through the crack under my door.

It was just a moment after I had showered and settled into bed when my phone vibrated, rattling on the bedside table.

It was Elle, telling me she made it home safe. I replied, telling her I enjoyed the evening and was glad she came, though the text I'm sure she knew was just a formality.

I rolled back over, facing the window, watching the pale curtains blow gently in the breeze. The window was cracked open slightly, a habit I secretly still kept.

Foolishly, guiltily, leaving it open just in case of a miracle. When I closed my eyes I could easily conjure the presence in my mind, willing myself to believe that when I opened them he would be there.

The ghost of the past roaming the expanse of my room, my imagination so easily convincing me that he was there with me, the desperation to fill the hole in my chest driving me to such lengths.

My phone ringed once again, and as I opened my eyes, I was met with the empty wall, nothing but the breeze-blown curtains.

I almost didn't read the text, wishing to ignore it. Like it wasn't there.

It was so easy to pretend the world outside my room didn't exist.

Wishing the phantom would return, to bring the comfort I so desperately needed.

A second ping brought me out of that dream, grunting as I lunged over to grab the phone.

It was, once again, Elle. Of course. No one else bothered to contact me using the phone other than Charlie. Not that I would have answered any messages anyway, and I hadn't planned on answering Elle's either.

But her message caught the best of my interest.

_If you're up for it, I was thinking of going to La Push tomorrow. I realized I didn't really feel like driving all the way to Port Angeles just to watch a movie and come back. If you'd like to go, we could maybe read down by the beach while the sun's out and grab a bite to eat. I also heard there's a nice secondhand bookshop there. I haven't been yet and knew you'd mentioned you've been before. _

I paused for a moment as I thought, fingers hovered over the keys in indecision.

Before, I wouldn't have hesitated in taking up the offer. I enjoyed La Push, the driftwood fires and beautiful sunsets. Though now, my first instinct was to say no.

But before I could turn down the offer, Charlie's plea rang in my mind. Everything that was at stake.

I felt smug at the realization. I could use this as an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone- hangout with a "new friend" and maybe even run into Jacob.

If Charlie had been pleased with dinner tonight, he would be ecstatic with me tomorrow.

I might even get him off my back for a little while for such a grand social outing.

_That actually sounds like fun, I'd love to go. _

I laid back, nestled amongst the pillows, my cellphone resting on my chest. I glanced to the center of the headboard above me, at the small brown dreamcatcher dangling by a string.

I got a response almost immediately.

_Great! I'll pick you up around nine. Bring your favorite book!_

A shadow of a smile grew on my lips as I closed my eyes, nestling further into the thick blankets in satisfaction with my genius.

The phantom returned soon after, and I allowed my mind to succumb to the comfort the dream brought. Imagining the figure that stood just outside my reach, watching over me. Keeping me safe.

It had never felt so real, as though he _truly_ were with me, and I didn't dare open my eyes, in fear it would scare the ghost of what remained of him away. The ache of my heart lessened as I was lulled to sleep by the breeze of the night. Enveloping me in its chilly embrace.

I slept soundly that night for the first time in weeks, unaware of the true forces that hid among the shadows, slowly mending the heart-shaped hole in my chest.

* * *

The next morning, I woke peacefully to the rays of sunshine peeking in from the open window.

It was a stark change from my usual mornings, waking up abruptly from nightmares, heart racing. Blood rushing in my ears.

I felt fully rested, and as I shuffled around my room to prepare for the day ahead, I was startled by the fact my body didn't ache the same way it had over the last several weeks.

Stepping into the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair, I spared a moment to look at myself in the mirror.

I had been pale and thin before. My hair long and uncut, down to my waist. However, over the last few weeks, the pallor of my skin only worsened. My hair had become rough and brittle from my lack of eating consistent meals, my appetite nonexistent. The usual shine was now gone, dull and mousy as I pulled it into a ponytail.

After getting dressed and packing a few books and a sweater in my bag I sat at the window seat, waiting to spot Elle's little white car coming around the corner.

As the sun shined down on my face through the window, I realized why she had changed her mind from Port Angeles to somewhere more appropriate to soak up the good weather.

I couldn't remember the last time the sun had shown so brightly in this town, let alone when I had actually spent any time outside other than going to and from my car.

Five minutes later, I found myself making my way to the front door to greet Elle as she walked up the porch steps.

Charlie was at the kitchen table, with a spoon full of cheerios in one hand and the morning paper in the other. The look on his face was priceless as he eagerly watched me open the door, having been thrilled beyond belief when I told him what my plans were for the day.

He had stayed home an hour later than he was supposed to, missing the bit of work, and I knew it was because he hadn't really believed me when I said I was going out that day. Needing to actually see it to believe it.

I offered Elle a small smile in greeting, opening the door a bit for her to walk past me into the entryway so she could say hello to Charlie. He gave her a bashful hello, mumbling over the mouthful of cereal. With a farewell and warning to be safe- bears were active this time of year, he said- we were on our way to La Push.

Though the car she drove was an older model, the inside was near spotless, not a single sign of previous use or ownership in sight. A light fragrance of lavender enveloped the car, the only personal touch that showed someone actually drove it around.

That was how a lot of things were, I had noticed, with Elle.

Her clothing was minimalistic and neutral in color, never wearing more makeup than a simple coat of mascara or lip balm to keep the chilly air at bay. I had come to realize that she did so intentionally, avoiding any of the attention bright and fashionable items may bring to her. She never wore her hair in a ponytail or bun, either, the long wavy length of her hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders.

Not a single item present to give away a glimmer of her personality, the secrets lying underneath the surface were locked away tightly. I knew they were there, her deep, knowing eyes as proof of my assumptions.

Simplicity was, I knew in actuality, very complex.

It was part of the reason I was okay with being around her, this new mystery of mine. My attention hadn't been captured in months, yet here was this new person, one I had a feeling was holding back intentionally.

It was starting to eat away at me, my curious nature coming to life once again.

So, I made a deal with myself, pushing my normally dark mood aside as I attempted to peel back the layers she had placed to guard herself against the world. I had never felt so alive in the last few months, this newfound interest was the first spark within me since _he _had left.

Starting a conversation wasn't the hard part with Elle, rather, it was the keeping it going part. It was so different speaking to her than it was with Jessica or Lauren, who, once you got started on a topic, would talk their head off. I could always get away easily with just a few mumbled responses to keep them talking for hours.

I was finally getting a taste of my own medicine with this newfound companion. Elle wasn't vapid or chatty like the other girls, the years of her youth spent in solitude and away from other kids obvious to me now that I knew a bit of her past. She was mature in her words, calculated and thoughtful, where Jessica was often dense and superficial.

Meaning, if I were to keep a conversation alive, I was going to actually have to put in the effort.

The local rock station played softly on the radio as we drove along the winding roads that led to the reservation lands. She wore a pair of sunglasses, the heavily tented lenses obscuring her eyes from view, the large frames accentuating the curve of her nose and cheekbones.

I fumbled with the seatbelt, finding the courage to start up a conversation.

"What all have you heard about La Push?" I asked, noting the hoarseness to my voice. I braced myself, forcing the words to come out clearer, confident.

She shrugged, eyes trained on the road, a small smile on her face.

"Well, not much, really. Only that I overheard that Newton kid talking about the beach to some girls in French class. Do a lot of people really go surfing around here? Surely it's too cold," she mused, looking at me with her question for a moment.

I nodded, though she couldn't see me, her eyes trained on the road ahead once again.

"Yeah, a few people do. Though there's only so many windows every year to do it successfully," I said, looking out the window as we passed the reservation welcome sign. I found it easier to look away from her entirely as I spoke, as to keep away the nerves, "But, I wouldn't recommend it. It's incredibly cold from what I've heard."

"I dislike the cold as it is, let alone the idea of swimming in icy water. I'd much rather swelter in the desert for a week than try a minute of that," she said, the distaste at the idea evident in her tone. I managed a small chuckle in agreement, missing the warmth of the Arizona sun on my face.

I quickly added to the conversation, knowing I'd quickly lose my nerve if I didn't, and I wanted to get more out of her.

"I agree, if the weather wasn't so nice today, I wouldn't want to leave the house. I've lived here for a year now, yet I'm still not used to the climate," I said, and I noticed the way her brow arched at my words, surprised I had spoken again. My usual silence was absent this morning, a small grin grew on her lips in approval.

My extra words were enough encouragement, it seems, to keep her going.

"What do you like to do when visiting the reservation?" she asked, tone seeped in her curiosity. I noted her accent for the first time, the slow southern draw just barely catching the end of her question, as though it had been hidden away all this time. Delicate and full of care, like the southern belles from the old black and white movies my grandmother used to watch when I was a child.

I shrugged, my mind flickering to memories of days spent at the Black's house, to Jacob's happy expression. "One of Charlie's good friends lives here, he and his son, Jacob. He's two years younger than us, though. I used to come here with Charlie to visit them."

_Used to. _The words didn't go unnoticed, as she already knew what I meant by that. Before they had left.

She nodded, showing her interest in my words, stopping at a stop sign. She glanced at me over the rim of her sunshades, the size of them gave her a dramatic look.

"Well, if you'd like, he could meet us at the beach if he wants to. Only if you want to, of course."

I thought on her words for a moment, mulling them over in my mind. I knew I'd need to see him sometime soon, to appease Charlie. And the scheme I had planned last night was coming in to play just as I had hoped. I gave her a nod, doing my best to convey my thanks in my expression, as though her suggestion was one I hadn't considered before.

"I'll send him a message to see if he's free."

She nodded, a small smirk on her lips, feeling accomplished that she had successfully played the role of mediator. I sent a quick text to Jacob and wasn't surprised when, just a moment later, he replied.

I could practically feel the eagerness in his response, that yes, he would love to meet us at Second Beach.

Elle slowed her speed, turning down the stereo so I could guide her to the beach just around the corner. We parked and unloaded our bags, Elle having packed a tote with blankets to rest on.

"I guess I should bring an extra one for Jacob, do you think he'd need some sunscreen?" She asked, pulling out the spray can from the trunk of her car, holding it up for me to see, another blanket tucked under her other arm. I shook my head, almost unable to hold back my laughter at her question. He spent more time outdoors than anyone I knew.

I took the extra blanket from her, freeing up some of the load she was trying to carry. We made our way down to the water's edge, deciding to set up our lounging place just far enough from the lapping water to keep out blankets from getting wet.

After setting up, each of us taking up a blanket to ourselves, we settled in. I lied down on my stomach, having picked my battered copy of _Jane Eyre _to read, though I had already done so at least a dozen times in the last few years. It was a favorite of mine.

Elle seemed to have a similar idea, having pulled out a shabby hardcover copy of _Absalom, Absalom!, _which looked as though she had found it in someone's grandmother's attic. She lay on her side, the book resting on the blankets as she leaned over it.

We easily fell into a comfortable silence, minds getting lost in the world of our books. I was unsure how much time had passed by the time I heard a car door slam, which startled me. We both glanced in direction of the sound, my curiosity dissipating when I saw the tall figure rushing towards us eagerly.

"Hey, Bells!" he called, the ever-present cheerful tone ringing over the sound of the waves.

I stood as he came near, bracing myself for the bear hug that he gave me, spinning me around in a circle. Elle stood to the side, watching the reunion from a distance.

He wore a beaming smile, his long black hair pulled back from his face, the white pearls of his teeth shining brightly in the sun.

Not much had changed over the last few months, save for the fact he had grown over a foot taller in the short amount of time. My surprise was evident as he laughed.

"A lot happens when you're gone for a while, huh, Bells?" he joked, his laugh infectious as I joined in, amazed.

"A lot, indeed, Jake. How tall are you now? Surely you have to duck to even walk through doorways," I said, impressed by the fact he had grown so much.

He nodded, laughing away, before noticing that we had company. He gave a cheeky smile to Elle, who extended her hand in greeting. She gave him a small smile, poised and graceful, even with the wind blowing harshly in her face.

I introduced the two, "Jake, this is Elizabeth MacLaine, she just moved to Forks," I said, stepping to the side.

"It's nice to meet you, Jacob. You can call me Elle," she said kindly, the slight twang to her voice coming out yet again, and he smiled wider at the sound. The ever-confident boy suddenly became bashful, his tan cheeks tinging the slightest shade of violet.

The new girl fever didn't just affect the Forks High boys, it seemed, and I had to hide my own amused smirk to keep from embarrassing Jacob further. He stumbled for words as she withdrew her hand.

We settled into sitting on the blankets, crossed legged and in a circle with the new arrival. Jacob sat between us, and I noted the way he twiddled his thumbs nervously.

Elle only smiled softly at him, offering him a book from her bag. She had the same idea as me- I could see several books within the canvas tote. Jacob thanked her for the offer but politely refused. His attention could never be held long enough to read even a chapter of a book.

It took a bit of effort to get Jacob's attention back on track, the boy was giddy and suddenly skittish in the presence of a new and attractive face, and I remembered it was the same way he had acted when I had first moved here, too.

"Elle's never been to La Push, and doesn't know much about the town, so we decided to come up for the day."

Jacob's face lit up like the sun at my words, an eager smile on his face as he looked to her. I could see the gears working in his head, finding this the perfect opportunity to tell her all about his people and his favorite hangout spots.

I could only do so much to stifle the amused grin from inching its way onto my face as he eagerly asked Elle a million questions, though only getting short and vague responses in return, which he didn't even mind because he quickly countered with his own responses anyway.

Was this what it had been like when he had tried to get to know me all those months ago?

Elle was amused too, humor bright in her green eyes as she watched him fumble over his words like a child on Christmas morning.

She had only been listening halfheartedly to him ramble on about his school, a polite smile on face as she nodded at the right moments, though when he changed the topic, she visibly perked up in interest.

"It's crazy, really, all of the folklore and legends my dad believes. He's always going on and on about our history, being one of the elders on the council and all. It's super important to him that 'the young folk remember where they come from.' Though I think it's all a load of bull, they do make for some pretty interesting stories to tell around the campfire. I know Bells found some of them to be pretty daunting," he grinned smugly, elbowing me in the shoulder.

I frowned at his words. He didn't realize just how far off the mark he really was. That the legends were far from fiction.

Elle raised a brow in interest, leaning in closer to Jacob, noticeably angling her body to face his. Her voice was soft, alluring. "What legends?"

Jacob grinned wickedly, thrilled that he got her attention.

I watched the exchange, caught off guard by this shift in her demeanor. _This _was what I had been picking up on. The little things that didn't add up. How she could go from shy and timid to this creature that sat before Jacob, open and inviting as though she seeped charisma through every pore in her body.

It was mesmerizing.

"There's this legend- it's totally bonkers- but it gives everyone the creeps. The story goes that our people were descended from wolves, great spirit-warriors who defended our people from these monsters that came from across the sea. Pale and horrible creatures who killed and drank the blood of innocent members of the tribe. They called them the cold ones, creepy, right?

Well, anyway, they had red eyes, like the blood they sucked from their victims. The people were desperate for protection from these cold ones, so the mightiest of the tribe turned into wolves, killing the cold ones once and for all, " he was grinning, a mocking laugh escaping his lips at the ridiculousness of his words. I couldn't find it in me to join in on the laughter.

Because I knew it was more than just a silly story.

Elle was enthralled by the legend, a look of fascination in her eyes. A shadow of something crossed her face for the slightest moment, disappearing before I could decipher what it meant, the bewitching smile returning to her full pink lips. Jacob ate it up.

She raised a brow, "so basically you're saying your dad believes the Quileute people are descended from... werewolves? And the cold ones are, what, vampires?" she questioned, voice wavering at the end as she tried to grasp the concept. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Basically, that's what everyone always assumes it means. I've never been told any different. Dad always used to tell the story to my sisters and me to keep us from being naughty, afraid that if we didn't do our chores a cold one would snatch us up in the middle of the night," he laughed, shaking his head in amusement.

The same look crossed her face once again, though Jacob didn't seem to catch it, and I couldn't make sense of it. But even though she smiled and laughed along with his jokes, the emotions didn't quite catch her eyes.

After a while, chatting for hours, we gave up on the idea of getting any reading done, instead deciding to take Jacob up on his offer to show us the best cafe and bookstore in town.

We ended up at an old diner called Susie's Place, a little hole in the wall that Jacob swore had the best sandwich in the whole county. His words didn't disappoint, every single plate cleaned down to the crumbs, each of us satisfied with achingly full stomachs.

Jacob wore a satisfied grin, sitting across the booth from us as he finished the last sip of his chocolate shake, "and you guys said you weren't even hungry, liars."

Elle threw the last fry from her plate at him, igniting a fit of giggles to break out among us, and I was surprised that even I had gotten caught up in the fun.

The bookstore Jacob had promised to take us to was just a few blocks away, and we left Elle's car parked at the diner. Elle and I browsed through the store for any first editions or intriguing books, Jacob finding the bobblehead display of famous authors at the front of the store to be more entertaining. He flicked their heads to the beat of some rock song, laughing to himself as we combed through the endless shelves of old books.

An hour later, Elle and I left with bags in hand, wearing small smiles of satisfaction. Jacob had bought a soda, the glass bottle slushing with his strides. Moods elated and content.

I thought this day had been too good to be true.

And I was right.

Rounding the corner, passing the only barber shop in town, Jacob all but ran into what I could only describe as a behemoth of a man, his bottle of cola shattering into a splattered mess before us as he tried to brace himself from colliding with the solid wall of flesh.

He stepped back, his surprise and embarrassment turning into anger under an instant once he realized who had tried to plow him down. An apology died on his lips.

"Uley, what the hell man?" he asked, incredulously. I stiffened, frozen in place, and my hand instinctually shot out, reaching out for Elle's. She stood closest to Jacob, sandwiched between us, and she took my hand in her's tightly. A cloudy storm of emotions showed on her face as she studied the interaction taking place before us, her glare evened at the man that towered over Jacob.

The stranger, Uley as Jacob had called him, was something out of a WWE match. Every inch of his russet skin was taut with bands of muscle, his dark hair cropped short, like a dark crown of darkness. I wanted to cower away, something within me telling me to run and never look back. I couldn't say the same for my companions, though.

"Jacob," the giant man said, dark eyes sharp and assessing the smaller boy, who was dwarfed in comparison, even with his recent growth spurt. If Jacob were afraid, he did well not to show it. I could tell by the tone of their voices that there was bad blood between them, tensions high.

I wondered how a young and childish boy like Jake would know anything of the likes of this guy.

Elle's grip on my hand never lessened, nor did her heated gaze falter from the man, even as he looked to me. Only did his tough guy persona crack in the slightest when he looked to her, finally.

His smug expression faltered for the briefest moment as he took her in, turning to surprise to confusion. His words left his mouth before he thought on them. His gaze stayed fixated on Elle, though were aimed at Jacob.

"What are you doing hanging out with someone like _her_?" His tone just off the mark of disgust, confusion showing clear on his face. As though it made no sense.

Jacob looked at the man like he had just asked if the sky was green. "What? Never seen a high schooler, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, bewildered, as if everyone was blind but him. He gave Elle another look, a brow raised in disbelief, "A high schooler, you say?"

Elle shifted in her stance, though her face didn't show any sign of breaking in her even look. He stared her down for another moment. Jacob scoffed, "Well, duh, dude. Wow, I guess being a school dropout before the eleventh grade really does makes you stupid."

A small flame of anger flashed across Sam's face at the comment, and I flinched once more before he forced a look of neutrality. He didn't dare look away from Elle, the two caught in a stare down of their own. As if she dared him to make a move.

He was wise not to.

After one last scan of Elle's body, his eyes roaming from her head to toes, he backed off. He spared me one last glance, one I couldn't read, but it felt like something just short of pity. I frowned.

He shot Jacob a warning look, "suit yourself, dude. You won't be so ignorant for long."

The air was so thick with tension, I felt it hard to breathe. My heart fluttered rapidly in my chest.

Sam pushed past, his shoulder shoving Jacob out of his way. None of us moved until he had disappeared around the corner.

Jacob huffed in frustration, "Ugh, what a dick!" He kicked the metal post of the stop sign, muttering curses to himself.

Elle only released my hand once she felt certain Sam Uley was gone, her face a look of unsettling calm. It was frightening to behold.

I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around what had just happened. With Sam and Jacob.

And, more importantly, what the hell had passed between Sam and Elle.

None of us spoke a word on the rest of the walk back to the car, both Elle and Jake brooding in silence over the strange event of the evening.

I couldn't help myself, I kept stealing glances over at her, whenever I thought she wouldn't notice. Even on the car ride home, I tried to study every angle and detail of her face.

What had Sam's words meant? I rolled the words around in my head, trying to decipher them, like my own personal Rubik's Cube.

Even as she pulled up to my house, parking just at the edge of the drive, I hadn't made a single dent in understanding his words.

She looked at me, her eyes drooped and dull from her obvious exhaustion, a sad frown on her face.

I took this moment, looking at her face-to-face, to study her once again.

There was nothing out of place, her face youthful and glowing with her tan. She looked every bit the teenager, not a single wrinkle or sign of otherness. So what had Sam been getting at?

"I hate the way this afternoon ended," she said, her tone seeping with her sincerity, "I really had a blast before that buff guy showed up."

I shrugged her off, that it wasn't her fault Sam ruined it.

"I did, too," I said, and I meant my words. Something that surprised even me. I tried my best at a joke to lighten the mood, "I won't let some guy, who's clearly jacked up with 'roid rage, to ruin my day. Thank you for asking me to go."

Her face brightened considerably at my words, touched at the fact that I had meant them. She reached out to squeeze my hand. I squeezed hers back.

"No, thank _you, _Bella. I don't know what I'd do without having met you this year," she said, her smile slightly faltering, "I put on a good show for my parents, but school isn't what I had hoped it would be. It's nice to know someone shares the sentiment."

Something fluttered in my chest, something I couldn't place, though I assumed it to being touched by her words.

I felt as though I had taken more than just a small step at healing that day, rather, I felt I had jumped leaps and bounds.

If only Charlie had been there that day to see it for himself.

Though it turns out, he didn't need to for him to believe me. The moment I stepped through the door, a bag of books in hand and the sandy backpack over my shoulder, he looked as though he would weep in happiness.

He went to bed that night content, belly full of celebratory beers and a mind at ease.

I couldn't say the same for myself.

My mind was far from being content.

While I had been touched by Elle's words, our friendship significantly growing into something stronger, my mind had yet to cease it's obsession over Sam's words.

Something had happened. I was absolutely certain.

I simply didn't know what I had missed. It had to have been so obvious to him, yet how had Jacob and I missed it?

There was also Elle's reaction to consider, the defensiveness she had challenged him with was testament enough to the fact that there was something the two of them knew.

But what could it be?

His comment to Jacob, _you won't be so ignorant for long_, was branded across my mind. I couldn't escape it. There was meaning behind the words, and it drove me mad that I couldn't understand them.

What was waiting in the near future for Jacob?

Why did Sam Uley take such offense to Elle's very existence, as though she hadn't belonged among her own classmates?

My mind ran the unanswered questions around in circles until it had exhausted itself by the early hours of the morning.

The last thing I remembered before fading into the darkness was the phantom's return, it's gentle caress lulling me into a dreamless sleep accompanied with the scent of lavender cocooning me in it's tranquil embrace.


	5. Return to Sender

Chapter Five:

**Return to Sender**

* * *

_December 3rd, 2005_

**To: **AliceCullen_

**From: **Bella_Swan

Alice,

You left, just like the others.

Perhaps that was something I should have expected, as everyone fled Forks. Yet, even in the days following my birthday party, I still found it hard to believe that you had been among them. That somehow, despite the decision of your family, you had stayed.

I guess I was always one for wishful thinking.

But even now, it has been months, and I still wake in disbelief when I reach for my phone- glance behind me in class- before realizing that I won't find what I'm searching for, wishing to see. You're gone.

Just like the rest of them, vanished.

I try to remind myself that you had the same thoughts as.. your brother. As Edward, wishing to leave my life as if you and your family never entered it. But you did Alice, you did. And no matter how many physical reminders you took away from me, I can't release my memories. The images of each and every one of you are burned into my mind.

And even then, without memory, the _feeling _reminds me. Every moment of every day.

It had been bad at first, an unbearably painful hole torn right through my chest where my heart had been. Taken in the forest that day after my birthday. Edward had taken it, a part of me that I was sure I could never replace.

I could never love another, feel as though I had a place among another family as I did yours.

I thought I couldn't.

But weeks went by, painfully slow and unbearable, but through time, I have found that I am aching less. Feeling things other than the pain and despair.

Don't get me wrong- I know that no matter how much time passes and how less I feel the pain- I will always love you and your family. Forever, as you had promised you all would love me.

The healing is because of Edward, I swear it, Alice.

I cannot begin to try and explain how that could be possible, but it is.

I see him, Alice. I feel him with me.

Maybe I'm crazy now, I don't know for sure. But I've realized that I am okay with that.

It's made me happy, able to face the world that I have fought from acknowledging for so long.

Perhaps I can find my forever with him still, Alice.

I miss you every day.

\- Bella

**User error: Delivery of message to this email address failed. The address is no longer activated, is incorrect, or cannot be found. **

* * *

_December 12th, 2005_

**To: **AliceCullen_

**From: **Bella_Swan

Alice,

I wish I had your real address. I wish you hadn't deleted this email account, was it really necessary to go to such lengths? I wish you didn't have to cut me out of your life as the others had.

I wish I could tell you about Jake, about how he's come back around recently. He's grown so much- literally. He's taller than any athlete at Forks High, and he's gained muscle like a wrestler stacked on steroids.

I wish I could tell you how he makes me feel alive again, even if only for fleeting moments.

I wish I could tell you all about my new friend, Elizabeth. About how its all thanks to her that Jake even came back around in the first place.

I know what you might be thinking at the mention of Jake- no, he's not interested in me. Not in that way, nor am I towards him.

It is quite the opposite. His teenage crush has switched from me to our new friend, he can't hide it no matter how hard he tries.

Poor Elle. She tries so hard to be polite, but I can see that Jacob's consistent attempts at flirting take a toll on her. She's not interested in the boy, and I can see how hard it is for her to keep from breaking his heart. But I'm thankful that at least her suffering gets him off my back for a change.

With a new love interest in his life, Jacob has moved on. And perhaps, if you were still talking to me, you would tell me to do the same. At least, that's what I imagine you telling me.

But I can't move on, Alice. Not even if I tried, but I don't want to do that. Not now, not after all I've gone through.

He's still here with me, I swear it. I still see him, as I drift to sleep or stare off into a daydream long enough, I see the shadow of where he once was.

It's not my imagination, Alice. I know it isn't. How could I feel him so distinctly if it was simply my imagination?

I'm positive no one can see him but me, the shadow comes even in a room full of people sometimes, yet none are aware of his presence.

My phantom, I've come to call him, Edward coming to me in times that I need him most, when the pain in my chest returns on the occasions I feel lonely or afraid. He comes to me to take it away, to ease the pain as quickly as it came.

I want so badly to confide in someone about the phantom, but how could I possibly do that? Without telling too much? So, I sit in silence, in the company of his warmth. It's all I can do to cope.

If anyone were to understand, or at least try to be openminded, it would be you, Alice. I wish you were here.

You would love my new friend, she reminds me so much of you, in the most bizarre way. I cannot describe it, but the way she looks at people... that gleam in her eye that she gets when she's in a good mood- it reminds me of the way you would look at people after a vision, after seeing something good.

A knowing look.

She looks at me like that sometimes, and in those moments, I can convince myself that she's actually you sitting there with me, if I try hard enough.

That she sees something good in my future.

How easy it is to wish.

I wish you could meet Elizabeth, and that you would return my emails.

\- Bella

**User error: Delivery of message to this email address failed. The address is no longer activated, is incorrect, or cannot be found.**

* * *

_December 24th, 2005_

**To: **AliceCullen_

**From:** Bella_Swan

Alice,

Something has... changed. I don't know how to feel about it.

I thought I was making it up- looking too deeply into things. Hoping that if I dug enough, I could discover a new secret. Crack a code.

But I'm starting to regret that decision, to let my curiosity get the best of me.

That, perhaps, the code should be left uncracked.

It has consumed me, this need to know the answers. To discover the truth.

Because I dug too deep, got too involved.

I shouldn't have done it, Alice. But I couldn't help it. I wanted to discover something _other. _Something like you, like your family.

And I think I've done that.

I don't have the answers right now- honestly, I'm more confused and unsure than I was before I even started digging.

But it's too late- now that I know for certain something is different, something is _off _\- I cannot sit back and ignore it.

The phantom is present near constantly now that I have made this discovery, the realization as if he knows I'm in over my head. That I'm falling in too deep in my ramblings.

He's here with me now, Alice. It's all the comfort I can find now that my mind is preoccupied with its storm of thoughts. My mind is more active now than it has been in the last few months.

What I wouldn't give to talk to you about it, Alice! I feel as though I'm losing it, and I'd hope you'd know the answers. Sadly, the phantom can offer me no answers, only warmth from his touch.

I'd ask you so many questions... so many things are building up that make little to no sense the more I think about them.

Jacob has been... distant recently. I thought that maybe he was feeling discouraged or embarrassed that his attempts at flirting were getting him nowhere, but now I'm not so sure that's his problem. He's been snappy, short.

We'd spent nearly every day together the last month, yet over the last few days, he's been practically absent. I'm going to call him in the morning, tell him Merry Christmas, see if he feels better with the holiday festivities and all.

But that's not even the half of it, Alice.

Elizabeth...

I can't place my finger on it. Half of me isn't even confident in my assumptions that something is different about her, to begin with. But as I said, I'm in too deep, stuck halfway down the rabbit hole and I'm not too sure I can get myself out of it.

I have to get to the bottom of it. It's the only way for me to find rest, to bring peace to my mind. It would certainly calm the phantom, I can tell he's growing antsy with each day that passes where I worry.

So, I ask what you would tell me if you were here, and I told you all that I find odd about Elizabeth. About the things around her, about her, that don't add up. Just as the little things about your family didn't add up to me.

Her parents are never around, always out of town. Working on research for the University, she says. But how can two adults leave their only child unattended half the time? And she has that look, Alice, the one I told you about. Once I started focusing on it, I see it more often, not just when she's happy. It's like she's a step ahead of everyone, as though no matter what happens, she's already expected it moments before anyone else. Oh, and I also noticed her mannerisms... they're odd. For a teenager from the Carolinas, she acts a lot like Edward used to. Stiff, curt with her manners.

But that's just rambling, nitpicking. Looking too deep where I probably shouldn't, maybe I'm just being too judgy. She was probably raised differently than me, after all, I've never spent any long amount of time in the south, let alone in the life of someone who has been homeschooled their whole life, as she has.

Maybe.

But, I leave with the one question that has plagued my mind the most over the last two days, since _it_ happened, and perhaps it will give me clarity by putting it out there, even though I know this won't ever reach you.

Vampires, as I have learned, have reflections. The lore from storybooks was proven false. If you and Rosalie weren't proof enough. I've never met someone so addicted to looking at her reflection like the two of you.

I invited Elizabeth to stay the night two days ago, as she's stayed over several times in the recent month. Nothing new. I've grown comfortable with having a close friend again. It was late that night, I was half asleep - which is something to consider that I might have been hallucinating in my daze- but I heard her in the bathroom, at the sink. The door was wide open.

I got up to get a drink of water from the kitchen and glanced in on my way down the stairs.

I know I said I had been sleepy. Half-awake. But Alice, no matter how I try to deny it, I know what I saw. Or rather, _didn't_ see.

If the legends got it all wrong about vampires... what other beings did they miss judge?

Because whatever this _otherness _is about Elizabeth, it doesn't have a reflection.

I haven't slept since, and I'm desperate. I told Charlie to put melatonin tablets in my Christmas stocking.

I hope he knows I wasn't joking.

I won't be sleeping on my own otherwise. Not even the phantom's presence helps me sleep now.

Merry Christmas, Alice. Wherever you are.

\- Bella

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	6. Everything is Not What it Seems

Chapter Six:

**Everything Is Not What It Seems **

* * *

The Christmas holiday had come and gone, yet it felt as though it hadn't happened at all.

While Charlie had taken great enjoyment in celebrating the holiday with me for the first time in years, I couldn't help but feel smothered by the problems in my social life.

Jacob hadn't spoken to me in the three weeks following the holiday, even after I had sent him a Christmas package. A card wishing Billy a joyous season, another just for Jacob inside the tin of cookies I'd baked him.

Asking how he was doing, why he was ignoring my calls. Telling him how terribly I missed him and wished I could confide in him about the worries that plagued me.

I never received an answer.

Even as the winter break came to an end and school started back, it was as though the close friendship we had formed over the last few months never happened in the first place.

I missed him greatly and could feel the numbness starting to creep back in.

"I'm sure he's just going through some things. You know how teenage boys can be, he'll come around when he's ready."

The kitchen smelt of warm spices, the pot on the stove bubbling away as Elle stood over it, stirring the soup she was making for dinner. Her long hair pulled up in a mess atop her head away from the heat of the stove.

A disgruntled sigh was my only response to her words, hugging my legs to my chest even tighter in my seat at the table.

While Jacob had become a vacant presence in my life, Elle was around more than ever before. As though she knew my disappointment in the boy, and tried to make up for his absence by filling that time herself.

She turned off the stove, moving over to the rickety cabinet by the fridge to pull out two bowls.

She gave me a sad smile when she noticed I wasn't up for conversation and went about preparing the food.

A piping hot bowl of minestrone soup was set in front of me a moment later, and I gave her a weak word of thanks, feeling guilty for not matching her effort of being social.

She sat next to me, waving off my look of guilt.

"Bella, I know it's frustrating that he's acting this way. But I'm sure in some way it's what he thinks is best for him, even if it's a crappy decision. When he's ready to talk and beg for your forgiveness, he will. I promise," she said with a sense of finality, as though it would quell all my worries.

I nodded as I dug into the dish before me, taking the excuse she suggested as the most logical solution.

I was tired of the endless spiral of theories my anxiety created.

For now.

We fell into mutual silence as we ate, the television in the living room playing a rerun of an old western the only sound. The sound of the static from the faulty antenna tickled my ears.

Though I tried my best to be subtle, I kept finding myself stealing glances at the girl across from me, studying her mannerisms and features as she took her time hoving over her bowl of soup. I noted the way her jaw worked as she chewed, the obvious pulse at the crook of her delicate neck just above the only piece of jewelry I'd ever seen her wear- a dainty gold chain with a teardrop of lapis lazuli dangling at the center.

It had been my Christmas gift to her. She had gifted me a collector's edition of _The Poems of Emily Brontë _with a monogrammed bookmark inside.

What a terrible, undeserving friend I was being, simmering in my outlandish suspicions and obsessive staring habits.

I simply couldn't help it.

For several days over the break, I had believed myself to be crazy. Seeing things that weren't there.

But the twists and knots in my belly told me otherwise. The feeling so similar to how I had felt when I'd grown suspicious of the Cullens, obsessing over their every move until I came to a conclusion.

I was now obsessed with Elle and her secrets.

It was why I was there in the first place, at her home.

Earlier in the week, I had asked her if we could have another sleepover. Nothing out of the ordinary, as she had taken to staying at my house plenty of times.

Only this time, I suggested we go to her house instead.

She had hesitated in her response, surprised at the suggestion, and I didn't miss the way her eyes widened as she scrambled to decide her answer.

She eventually agreed, recovering quickly, and launched into an explanation that it would be a wonderful idea.

After all, just as coincidence would have it, her parents would be on yet another hiking trip.

It gave me all week to prepare, yet as the days flew by and Friday had arrived, I realized I could come up with nothing.

I didn't know where to even start looking because I still wasn't sure if there_ actually was_ anything to look for in the first place.

Countless minutes had passed- ten, thirty? I wasn't sure- and only when I robotically stuffed an empty spoon in my mouth did I realize I had finished my soup. The odd metallic taste of the silver spoon lingering on my tongue brought me out of the obsessive thoughts.

Elle collected both bowls once she finished, and after I thanked her for the meal, she moved to the sink to wash them.

I took in my surroundings once more, noting all the ways her home was similar yet different from mine.

It was an older craftsman-style bungalow on the southern side of town, further out into the forest than Charlie's place.

There were many things that caught my attention when I first arrived, taking in the furniture and decor as Elle showed me around the first floor.

The original hardwood flooring and cabinets were kept as it was purchased, the tiny kitchen looking the most worn-out and scruffed, yet the imperfections made it feel lived in and loved.

It was as though the interior truly reflected the philomaths that lived there, with greenery and vintage trinkets placed on nearly every open surface. The walls decorated with beautifully designed lithographs of various flora and fauna.

It was decorated like the home of someone who spent most of their time researching, the space that was originally a dining room now used as a home library, with shelf after shelf of various books. A small mahogany desk faced the lace-covered window, an old typewriter placed on top accompanied by stacks of papers.

I shifted my attention back to Elle, who had her back to me, running her hands through the soap and water in the sink. How peculiar it was that in some way, she was reflected in the environment around her, and I wondered what decorations and trinkets she contributed to the organized chaos.

Her public fashion was just as simple as the day I had met her, muted colors, and minimal designs or frills. Yet, I wondered how it must feel for her to go home each day, met with the vibrant decorations of her home when she herself was the opposite of all that the structure held within.

Again, a detail that most likely meant nothing, yet with the nagging feeling in my gut, I managed to find it of importance.

The memory of that night weeks ago, just before Christmas, flashed in my mind.

Elle standing before the sink of the tiny bathroom adjoining my bedroom, the mirror vacant of any reflection of her tanned face or flowing caramel hair.

The thing I planned to do followed the memory, and I felt my palms become sweaty at the idea of actually carrying it out. I wasn't sure if I could actually do it.

What if I discovered something I shouldn't?

An airy laugh pulled me from my thoughts, and I shifted in my seat with a start.

Elle had finished the dishes, turning to face me with her hands on her hips. An amused grin was eating away at her face as she watched me.

I realized she has asked a question, and I had missed it completely.

"Hello, Earth to Bella!"

I blushed at being caught daydreaming, though I forced myself to match her humor as I studied her.

Bright green eyes, tanned skin, friendly demeanor.

Human.

Not a single one of her features screamed vampire or _other. _

Guilt threatened to swallow me whole as I forced myself to stand from the table, going over to the fridge to refill my glass of water.

Jacob hadn't been the only one to help pull me out of my funk, I reminded myself.

Honestly, he didn't come into the picture until far after Elle had. And by then, I was already hurdling leaps and bounds out of my zombie state.

She had been the one to pick up the pieces.

And here I was, acting as though she were a complete stranger rather than a friend that had practically saved my life.

"Ready to go put on one of the movies we rented?" She asked, grabbing the two DVDs that she'd sat on the counter.

I nodded with contrived enthusiasm, "Do you have a preference for which one you want to watch first?"

She shrugged, smiling after a moment before lifting up one of the cases to me.

_Pride and Prejudice. _

"I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't excited to see this one, sound good?"

I nodded, "I agree, I've never seen a period film with Kiera Knightly as the lead that I _didn't _enjoy."

For once, the laughter that followed was genuine as we filtered into the living room, Elle putting the movie on and settling into the couch across from me.

If she had picked up on my change in behavior these last few weeks, she did incredibly well at hiding it.

Yet this was how it always went with her- no matter how sour my mood was before her arrival, she somehow miraculously managed to pull me out of the hole I'd managed to dig myself into within the hour.

The air shifted and a lightness replaced the heavy emotions I had held on my shoulders, and as time passed my initially sour mood vanished completely.

Yet, not of my own volition.

She was a beacon of light in a similar way that Edward had been the center of my universe, the person I orbited around. Her emotions were the sole source of warmth that kept me afloat when I needed that anchor, otherwise, I'd drown in the sea of my own miserable loneliness.

At some point during the movie, side conversation had picked up, and we found ourselves hardly paying any attention to the film on the screen.

The urge to laugh and smile was contagious, a desire to talk and share burned bright in my chest. My mind registered that the sudden change in vulnerability was irrational, yet I ignored it as I simply enjoyed the change too much.

I was addicted to the elated and warm feelings that accompanied Elle's presence. I would tell her anything she wanted to know if she asked.

And I had a feeling she was well aware of that fact.

She'd pulled out a basket of nail polish earlier, and we sat there on the couch sorting through the various colors.

"Did you overhear Jessica and Lauren in class today?" I asked with a laugh, still humored by the joke Elle had just made about the character on the screen.

She shook her head with a grin, a curious twinkle in her eye, "No, you know I avoid those two like the plague. Enlighten me. What did the queen bees have to say this time?"

I held two bottles of polish in my hand- a bright blue and a pastel purple. Debating on which to pick before continuing, tossing the purple bottle back into the box after a moment of consideration.

"Apparently, Lauren had a... _scare." _

Her eyes widened like saucers at the juicy gossip, her mouth hanging open in shock. Despite Elle's impeccable manners, even she couldn't resist the temptation of hearing about the latest scandal.

"_No way,_" she hissed, sitting up to lean forward. Eager to hear more.

I nodded with raised brows, the scandal was one that had shocked me as well.

While Elle and I never interacted with the two girls that, once upon a time, had been my friends, I sometimes couldn't help but listen in to their gossiping during the seventh period. They thought they were whispering and forgot I had existed, but I often could hear them clear as day.

Every now and then, Elle and I would catch a piece of their conversations and would spend hours of banter picking at the crazy things the two drama queens often found themselves in the middle of.

It was a running joke that if Lauren jumped off a bridge, Jessica would, too.

"From what I could gather, it seems she and Tyler had a bit too much fun at Mike's New Year's Eve party," I said, shaking my head at the idea, knowing good and well just how rowdy that party had probably been.

Elle just laughed, shaking her head with an amused look.

"I will never understand the mentality of kids our age. How romantic, getting it on in Mike Newton's parents' bedroom. And they say chivalry is dead," she snickered, and I nearly spit out the soda I had taken a sip of.

I sat the soda can down on the coffee table, barely swallowing the fizzy drink before bursting into a fit of laughter.

This, I mused, was what I had been missing after Edward left.

Hanging out with Elle made me feel like a person again. Doing silly teenage things like painting our toenails wacky colors and joking about our classmates.

I had never been able to call another girl a close friend- only really interacting with them at school. Most had different interests that had never been on my radar, but Elle was the first who actually felt like I didn't have to try hard to make conversation with.

I _wanted_ to tell her things, show her the vulnerable side of myself.

Yet, I was growing increasingly frustrated that she hadn't done much of the same.

Perhaps that was the issue- why she seemed so odd to me. She was private, and I hadn't done a good job of trying to get her to open up as she had with me.

It was time to step up to the plate.

My curiosity was eating away at me.

I looked around the room, my eyes landing on the mantlepiece, at the row of neatly organized books lining the wooden shelf.

So many trinkets and objects of curious backgrounds, yet not a single photograph.

No personal mementos, no souvenirs from a family vacation. Proof that a loving family lived here, seemingly nonexistent.

I was instantly stung with the realization that her home life was probably a lot different than mine- while Charlie and I were simply quiet people, Elle and her parents probably didn't interact at all. Total strangers.

At least Charlie and I could sit at the same table every night and eat dinner together.

Did her family do the same?

I doubted it, by the fact that the only table in the house was in the kitchen, barely big enough to fit two people comfortably.

She noticed I had fallen silent again, and she raised a brow in question.

"Do you ever get lonely with your parents being gone all the time?" I asked, almost hesitant, hoping I hadn't been too blunt in my sudden change of the topic at hand.

She thought about it for a moment before shrugging her shoulders indifferently.

"Not really, no. I've always been an independent person, even as a little kid. But, really, they didn't start taking such frequent trips until I was much older. So it's a pretty recent thing, and I enjoy the private time.

I could always tell they longed for the chance to travel and put more effort into their research, but having a child that was dependent on their full attention took away from that. I don't want to keep them from their passions, so I don't mind it really. Plus, I'm not a big fan of camping so I would probably slow them down if I tried to tag along."

She said it with a smile, as if in reassurance that she didn't mind sharing, and I found myself returning the small gesture. Her words sat with me for a moment, and I found myself nodding. I could relate.

"I get that, it was kind of the same for me with my mom. It's why I moved here in the first place. I didn't want to stand in the way of her happiness, and if I stayed, she wouldn't get to travel with Phil as she gets to now. I miss her, but I'm glad I gave her that chance to be happy."

"Exactly, I miss having them around, but I would be sad to know that I kept them from doing the things they enjoy. It's a compromise I'm willing to make," she said, voice soft and eyes light as we shared a moment of understanding. We both made sacrifices for the people we loved.

I felt more confident then and was ready to ask another question, my mind running down the mental list I had created.

After applying the first coat of the shiny blue polish to my toes, I spoke.

"What exactly do your parents _do_, if you don't mind me asking? I know they're professors, but what is all of their research for?"

She smiled, the question not bothering her at all. She continued painting her nails as she spoke, taking great effort to make them look perfect.

"Well, they're technically at the college to teach classes in environmental studies. But teaching is only half of it, they mainly took the jobs so they could spend time doing research that they truly care about.

My mom, in particular, has always had a fascination with studying and preserving the practice of folk medicine using herbs and natural tinctures. Back home, in the Appalachians, there's a heavy emphasis on folklore and superstitions, and these tales had an impact on the practices of everyday life. My mother was obsessed with learning all she could of the ways of old and her interest only grew with time. What started out as a hobby in her youth ended up being a lifelong passion, and she turned it into a career."

I watched her closely, her words intriguing as she spoke of her mother, and I was instantly drawn in. There was something alluring about the way she spoke of her mother's craft, and I desperately wanted to know more.

A tingle of excitement ran down my spine- was she going to reveal her secrets, the answers I desperately sought?

She spared me a glance when I remained silent for another moment, trying to gauge my reaction, and an amused smile played on her lips at my curious expression.

"Do you know much about Appalachian folklore?" she asked lightly, and I could see the spark of mischief in her eye as I shook my head, her smile only growing at the fact.

"I don't know much at all, really," I said, curling my legs up to my chest as I got comfortable, watching her intently. Eager to hear what she would say next.

"Well, growing up, when my mom wanted to do research, I would often be dragged along with her if she couldn't find a babysitter. Which ended up being more often than not.

I cannot begin to count the hours I've spent cooped up in the dusty back corner of a library, keeping her company as she would comb through book after book of tales and recorded journals about the people that had settled in the mountains centuries ago, trying to find every bit of information she could.

What she was searching for, I was never sure, but it was like an unquenchable thirst. Every time she would find a new lead on an interesting tale, she would go on a wild goose chase, frantic to find a logical answer to the myth."

She paused, her eyes distant as she thought back to the memories, a small quirk on her lips. I couldn't tell if her expression was one of fondness or sadness, but she continued to speak again after a moment.

"The people who came from Europe to settle in the mountains were very isolated and easily consumed by fear. Any unusual event that probably had a more logical solution was always chalked up as being a ghost or spirit, their superstitions ran so deep. Tales of curses and bad omens, signs of good luck and bad- they believed in it all."

I watched her closely, noting the way she had taken to twirling the ends of her hair, as though lost in her thoughts. There was a heaviness there, as though a whole different side of the story was yet to be revealed. Like she was debating on keeping it to herself.

I refused to remain in the dark. This was the most I had ever gotten out of her, and my curiosity was back with a vengeance.

"Does your mom, like... _believe_ in the legends, too?" I asked so softly I wasn't sure if she could hear me, but I knew she had because of the way her shoulders stiffened.

She nodded, and after a moment scoffed at herself, as though the idea were ridiculous.

Was she embarrassed by admitting this information? I suddenly felt like I had said the wrong thing.

"To other historians and researchers, her interests come off as simply a great passion to document the past. She'd never reveal it to anyone and will write it off with a laugh, but I think she does. I _know _she does."

She said the last words with such conviction I was stunned to silence for a moment, the two of us sitting there as we worked through our thoughts.

The only sound the soft voices of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett echoing from the television.

I wasn't sure what to say, still eager to know more, yet I fell short. I knew nothing about the tales she spoke of, unsure if it was much like the legends that the Quileutes believed.

"So, what, she believes she'll run into bigfoot out there in the forest or something?" I asked, jokingly, trying to lighten her mood. I didn't want her to stray too far away from speaking, afraid she would never speak of it again if I didn't get it out of her now.

She laughed at that, shaking her head at the ridiculous idea.

"No, though I personally find that more believable than some of the other outrageous tales from the mountains- like the Mothman. I think those are just more fun to tell little kids to scare them," she laughed again, before calming a bit, "her beliefs align more with the... spiritual side of things, I guess you could say."

I raised a brow, intrigued, and she watched my expression for a moment before continuing, indulging me.

"The people of the Appalachians were very cautious when it came to matters of the soul, spiritual things. Many believed the slightest disturbance, curse or ill will thrown their way could damn their souls. Many records of the various legends and tales have unfortunately been muddled over time and have become little more than hearsay, but the superstitions remain. Those are the tales and documents she studies the most, trying to fill in the missing pieces of what is accurate or false."

I was hardly able to hold back the laugh that formed in my throat at her words but caught myself just in time. I remembered that she was being real with me, that it wasn't a joke to her. The concept of souls and damnation happened to be a reoccurring conversation over the last year, and I held firmly to my stance on the matter.

But I had to remind myself that this wasn't a vampire with a moral superiority complex I was speaking with, but rather a girl who had no idea that the supernatural even existed.

"Do you believe in the tales, too?" I asked, my mood now sober as I remembered to keep a tight lip on my own opinion.

I couldn't think of anything more irrational than assuming that the value of your entire life and essence is summed up by this metaphorical and immaterial _thing. _

She thought for a moment, her pink bottom lip disappearing between her teeth as she contemplated her answer.

"I think one can never be too cautious when it comes to matters of the heart, the fragileness of our humanity. The mountain people lived in constant fear and worry that something would come and steal their soul- the essence of their humanity- but in reality, they did the very thing they feared to themselves. Fear is a powerful thing, it can lead people to do rather irrational things. So, with that, I think most of the tales and legends are a bunch of rubbish.

But, even then, I cannot deny that some of the stories are just the tiniest bit intriguing or thought-provoking. If you truly believed that such a vital part of your being could be stolen or corrupted, wouldn't you do everything you could to keep that from happening? I'm not particularly religious, but if I were, I'd imagine purifying the soul would be quite high on my to-do list."

I could see the hesitance in her eye, a flicker of worry as she awaited my judgment of her naked confession. Measuring my reaction.

I nodded in agreement, words failing to come to me in response. I couldn't disagree with the fact.

I had never considered it from that perspective, her revelation shedding a bit of light on Edward's obsession with his soul.

A moment passed before I was able to put my thoughts into words, forcing myself to shove aside the onslaught of thoughts about Edward, the effort stirring an ache in my chest.

"I guess you're right. I never thought of it that way. I never really contemplated it, honestly. I'm afraid I don't have a religious bone in my body, I think we're here simply to live and be. Everything doesn't have to be so complicated and holy."

She smiled, though almost to herself as her eyes took on a distant look, "I think that's not a bad way to look at it. Sometimes, I think it's best to let go of the things we can't control and focus on what we can. I've wasted so much time being sorry for myself over every little problem, only when I stopped stressing over it all did I truly feel relief."

I realized she was referencing something private and felt best I shouldn't try to dig any further into what she meant by that. I simply nodded, reaching for the bottle of shiny topcoat.

We sat in mutual silence for a little while after that, a feeling of peace and calm seemed to envelop the room as the movie droned on.

Only once the credits started rolling, the two of us having curled up in each of the couch corners, did we speak again.

Elle stood slowly, stretching with a yawn as he back cracked loudly. A lazy grin graced her lips as she raised a brow at me.

"I'm going to go grab something to snack on. Do you want anything?"

I considered the offer for a moment before declining.

"No, I'm good. Thanks, though. I'd actually like to go ahead and hop in the shower if that's alright."

She nodded, waving me over as she turned to walk down the hall.

"Of course, here, I'll show you where it's at and how to work it. The faucet is a little tricky to turn for some reason."

She guided me to the last room on the right, throwing open the door to reveal a tiny bathroom. A large window hung above the generously sized clawfoot tub, dried bundles of flowers and herbs lining the windowsill.

There was hardly room to fit both a sink and toilet in the room to accompany the porcelain tub, but it would do just fine.

She pointed out the best way to turn the hot water on and where to find the towels and soaps and left me to my lonesome.

I spent a moment longer than was probably necessary soaking in the tub, letting the warmth of the water ease the tensions I hadn't realized I carried. The scent of rosemary and peppermint from the soaps calmed my senses.

Peace enveloped me for the first time that day, though it was short-lived as I opened my eyes, looking at the backpack I had perched atop the toilet lid.

The bag's contents called to me, a sharp stab of guilt caught in my chest as I battled with myself over whether I should use them.

I climbed out of the tub at a painstakingly slow pace, as though moving through thick mud. I spared little thought on what clothing I threw on, my mind burning with the desire to rummage through the bag to grab the box that rested beneath the clothes.

I double-checked that the door was locked before daring to do just that.

My hands shook as I fumbled with opening the box, unable to rip the tape off fast enough.

A Polaroid OneStep, complete with film. I ordered it from a seller on eBay for the low price of twenty-three dollars. After shipping, of course.

It was the one thing I had purchased using the Christmas money Charlie had given me.

It burned in my hands as I tested the battery, the red light on the front flashing to life. My breath caught in my throat.

I was shaking, I realized, as the thoughts swirling through my mind came to a sudden halt. I forced myself to take in calming breaths, in and out.

In and out.

Could I go through with it, I wondered?

For the millionth time, I contemplated the pros and cons.

_Pro_\- If I'm wrong, it can be brushed off as a practice shot as I show off my new camera.

_Con_\- If I'm wrong, it will prove that perhaps I have lost more than a few marbles and need to seek help immediately.

_Pro_\- If I'm right, I prove that I'm definitely not crazy.

_Con- _If I'm right, I may or may not find myself at the hands of a monster. Who may or may not want to kill me.

I shoved the camera back into the backpack, scrambling to shove my dirty clothes inside before zipping it. As though I could banish the thoughts by trapping them inside the bag with the camera.

I stood there a moment longer than I dared, working up the courage to go back into the living room.

To act like I didn't have a possibly insane hunch and that nothing was wrong.

To act as though my life wasn't completely wrecked by a coven of vampires, who made me question every bit of my reality.

Who was I to say that I hadn't made them up, too? That I haven't just been crazy this entire time.

Perhaps none of them were real, not Edward or Alice.

I staggered back to grip the edge of the sink to keep from losing my balance.

My knuckles turned white with the tightness of my grip, my eyes squeezed shut as I struggled to keep from falling into another spiral of anxiety.

The delicate scent of lavender overwhelmed my senses, instantly relaxing my body.

I had yet to open my eyes, but the feeling of a presence behind me was obvious. I could pinpoint it anywhere, I was called to it like a magnet.

I opened my eyes slowly, only to be met by the most mesmerizing eyes I'd ever seen reflected behind me in the mirror. Molten gold, the richest amber.

They never failed to take my breath away.

"Edward," I breathed, never breaking his stare. As though the moment I blinked or looked away, he would vanish yet again.

I waited for him to speak, to whisper words of comfort or praise, filling the hole in my chest with temporary relief.

His brows were furrowed; his perfectly chiseled jaw clenched tightly as he frowned at me. I instantly felt the weight of his look of disapproval, feeling foolish.

"You know this won't end well, Bella."

Despite his words being a warning, a reprimand, I drowned in the beautiful sound of his voice. Let it wash over me.

I barely managed to shake my head, shifting on my feet in unease. Eager to defend myself, no matter how much I doubted my plans, too.

"I have to. You know I do," I made myself hold my head higher, putting on the strongest face I could muster, even if I didn't feel it in the slightest.

"You left me," the words escaped me in a gasp, my grip on the sink tightening again, "you all did. And now I am left here, alone. Left in a human world I am no longer a part of. Is it fair that I must accept it when I know there's so much more out there?"

An ugly scowl marred his beautiful features at my words, not wishing to hear me grovel. But I continued, letting the bitterness fill me.

"If I have another chance of joining your world- even from a different side- shouldn't I take it? Do I not deserve that happiness?"

He flinched, and I didn't miss the disappointment in his eyes. The outline of his form began to blur, just as it always did when his time began to dwindle.

I had moments left before he would leave me yet again.

He softened his look, eyes lit with dismay.

It angered me more, that he pitied me.

_Good, _a part of me thought, _let him grovel in his guilt for making me this way. _

Only seconds remained when he spoke, parts of his form already dissolving away.

"I did what I thought best to save you from this world. If I cannot stop you, certainly no one else will. I only hope it's worth the consequences."

I wanted to scream, send my weak and human fist hurtling towards his face, yet when I turned to face him, he was gone.

As though he were never there to begin with.

I forced down my screams, swallowed each and every last one, until nothing remained but my simmering anger.

A knock at the door startled me, an electric jolt of fright sending my mind reeling.

I clutched my chest, suddenly remembering where I was. Who's house I was in.

"Bella," Elle's muffled voice echoed through the room, "are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine," I managed to say, scrambling to grab my backpack and toiletries, "I'll be out in just a minute!"

The answer seemed to satisfy her, as I heard her soft footsteps slowly retreating down the hall a moment later.

I counted down from sixty in my head before exiting the bathroom, forcing on my most neutral face.

My backpack found its temporary home shoved between the couch and a bookshelf stuffed to the brim as I made my way into the living room.

I heard Elle in the kitchen once again, the _clink_ and _clang_ of dishes being put away told me she was getting ready to close the kitchen for the night.

I padded my way into the kitchen, leaning against the archway as I watched her put the last pot in its place. She turned around with a smile and took in my form, noting the damp hair and mismatched pajamas.

It took all my strength to match her happy grin with what I hoped was one of my own.

"So, it's getting pretty late," she said with a glance out the window above the sink, the darkness outside seemed to glare back at her, "do you want to stay up a while longer? I can put on another movie if you'd like, or break out a board game."

I shook my head at the offer, breaking out one of the go-to moves I used on Charlie to get out of socializing, exacting a loud yawn and stretch of my arms for good measure.

"Thanks, but I think I may fall asleep on the spot if I try to watch another period piece at this hour. How about we head to bed, then we can get up early and grab some coffee and waffles at the cafe?"

She nodded at the idea, wiping her hands one last time on a kitchen towel before walking past me into the living room.

"Sounds good to me, let me just break out the air mattress."

Something inside of me sang in relief at the news, glad that things were falling into place in accordance with my plan. It would have been a nightmare trying to execute my scheme if we were in different rooms.

I helped her gather blankets and pillows from the master bedroom, creating a warm nest atop the stiff air mattress in the middle of the living room. Elle decided to sleep on it, insisting I take the couch since it's much comfier and she claimed to not mind sleeping on firmer beds.

"Goodnight, Bella."

Hours later, long after Elle had fallen asleep, I found myself just as awake and wide-eyed as I had been before laying down. I couldn't rest, not with my mind running a mile a minute over the act I was about to commit.

I had talked myself out of doing it three times by the time dawn was upon us. I knew I was running out of time, and soon I wouldn't have the opportunity to go unnoticed.

I held my breath as I sat up ever so slowly, hoping to keep the couch from squeaking. I leaned over the velvet arm of the couch to unzip my bag, drawing out the vintage camera with painstakingly slow movements.

It came to life with the flick of a switch, the softest click of the plastic made my heart leap into my throat. My eyes darted to the form curled up on the air mattress before me, my body stiff as a statue as I held my breath waiting for her to move.

Only when another minute passed and her form didn't stir did I move, standing to my feet. I inched as close to her as I dared, stopping to stand right above her.

The soft waves of her hair were splayed across the silk pink pillow, her face the serene picture of contentment. I watched, mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of her chest, a patchwork quilt pulled all the way up to snuggle at her chin.

Remembering what I was doing, I shook my head in shame at myself, the entire act feeling dirty and cruel. I held the camera up to my eye, letting my vision adjust to the tiny lens for a moment.

I breathed deeply, working up the courage to snap the photo, forcing down all the guilt I felt. My forefinger grazed the button, suddenly feeling like the world was on fire.

The flash flicked off like a blinding light, the gears inside the little machine grinding and whirling as it worked to produce a photo.

The sound had been loud, echoing as though it were a clap of lighting within the room.

But as I held my breath, standing still as a statue above Elle's sleeping form, she didn't stir. I felt like crying.

I decided it was best to move to the archway of the room, slow in my step and quiet as a mouse in picking up my bag, least I need to run.

I held the camera tightly to my chest, as though I could muffle the little clicking sounds it made.

It felt like an eternity as I stood there, holding the blank photograph, waiting for the image to develop.

I shoved the camera down into the bag, throwing it over my shoulder. Color began to creep into the corners of the square frame, the patchwork quilt coming into focus.

My breath caught in my throat a moment later as the image completed, my mind searching the image.

Willing myself to see Elle in it, her splay of hair and smooth skin, but I couldn't see it.

I might as well have taken a photograph of an empty bed.

A gasp tried to force its way through my tightly pressed lips, my mind confused when the photograph was becoming unfocused until I realized it was my hand. I was shaking like a leaf.

My mind screamed at me, to run, or to scream. But I could do neither, standing there frozen like frightened deer as I looked over to the air mattress on the floor. Not five feet from me.

At the person- creature or other- laying there asleep. As though nothing were wrong in the world, the calmest and gentle thing.

I thought I would be happy, thrilled to be proven right, but in that moment all I could manage to think was that I needed to leave.

My feet made their way through the house on their own accord, one moment I'm standing there stunned in the living room, the next I was out the front door fumbling for my keys.

I realized my palms were sweating, my fingers jumbling with the key to unlock the door. I threw my backpack across the front of the cab, the bag hitting the window with a thud before dropping in a heap on the floorboard.

I must have closed the screen door louder than I had realized, as not a moment after unlocking my car and hopping in I heard her faint call of my name from inside.

Panic filled my veins with startling adrenaline, and I hastily fumbled with the ignition trying to start the car before she realized I had left.

The last thing I saw before pulling completely out of the driveway was her form stumble onto the porch, hair wild and eyes blown wide in shock as she burst through the front door. Our eyes met for what only could have been a millisecond, but it was enough to recognize the confusion and hurt in her eye.

"Bella, wait!"

Her call was only a whisper due to the roar and groan of the truck's engine, but she might as well have been screaming it in my ear.

My stomach twisted violently in my belly as I smashed the gas pedal, trying hard to ignore her plea.

It took all of my effort to keep my eyes trained on the road, reminding myself over and over again in my head of why I was doing this.

Guilt threatened to swallow me whole.

As I managed to steer the truck up the drive, I dared to take a look back in the rearview mirror.

Nothing but an empty porch.

A potted plant stood in the place I knew she was perched, where she actually stood waving her arms frantically, calling my name.

Just like the mirror in my bathroom and the polaroid picture now strown somewhere in her living room.

I slammed even harder on the gas pedal, the tires screeching at the sudden shift in gears as the truck lurched forward onto the road.

Fear shocked my system, yet the slightest sliver of relief ran up my spine.

I wasn't crazy after all.

_I'm not crazy. _

_I'm not crazy. _

I choked on a laugh, gripping the steering wheel so tightly I felt as if my fingers might break from the pressure.

Giddiness overwhelmed my system, the fact that I was right taking over as I lost myself in a fit of laughter.

My nerves felt fried, a part of me recognized that there was a good chance I had gone into shock. But I kept pushing the truck as fast as it would go.

Fear gripped me tightly as the laughter turned to sobs as tears blurred my vision.

It took all I had to keep from driving off the passing cliffs.

The fast-approaching sign was all that kept me going, pressing forward despite the feeling of choking on my own raging emotions. I had to make it before I passed out. There, I could gather my thoughts, think clearly what to do next.

On instinct, I had driven to the only place I could think of. The one place that drew me in like a call on the wind.

La Push.


End file.
